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In completing for the Members of the Hunterian 

,- Club the firfl colle6led edition of the Works of 

^^ Samuel Rowlands, the Council begs to thank 

^ the Rio^ht Hon. the Earl of Ellesmere, Mr. S. 

Christie-Miller, and Mr. J. Payne Collier for 

lending for reprodu(5lion or collation the very rare, 

in fome cafes unique, originals in their poffeffion. 

The Council would alfo exprefs its grateful fenfe of 

the help which in this refpe6t it received from the 

^, late Mr. Henry Huth. 

"^ The principle fleadily kept in view in the repro- 

^^-^ dudlion of the feveral pieces now brought together 
has been to preferve, as far as could be done with 
^^ a uniform type, the appearance and chara6ler of 
the originals. The typographical ornaments, initial 
letters, and woodcuts have been given in fac- 
fimile, while the fame exa6lnefs has been followed 
in the text, which has been rendered page for 
page, line for line, and word for word. Mifprints 
have therefore been retained, but a number of thefe 
will be found corrected in the Notes and Gloffary, 
while others are too obvious to require explanation, 
further than the remark that they are not due to the 
modern printer, whofe part has been done with 
judgment and fkill. 

Excepting in one or two cafes the trails have 
'^ been reprinted from Firft Editions, as a rule, 

j^ confidered by bibliographers more valuable than 

\> later impreffions. Rowlands is one of the very 

few amongft the many writers of his time whofe 
works had an extraordinary popularity. To meet 
this popular demand they were frequently re- 
printed, in fome inftances with additional matter. 

J^*:PDQ> i JL. 

Prefatory Note. 

The textual differences between the firft and fub- 
fequent editions it has not been thought neceffary 
to point out in detail. Setting afide the monetary 
outlay this would have involved, without any corre- 
fponding advantage, there was the almoft infuperable 
difficulty of accefs to the rare and widely fcattered 
originals. The additional matter, however, it is be- 
lieved, has been all included with the " Mifcellaneous 

Although Sir Walter Scott's fhort fketch of 
Rowlands and his Works — which will be found em- 
bodied in the Bibliographical Index — might poffibly 
have fufficed, it was thought that one more extended 
would be appreciated. The Council therefore aflced 
Mr. Edmund W. Gosse to write an Introductory 
Memoir, and it will be underftood that he was left 
entirely free to form his own unbiaffed eftimate of 
Rowlands' place in our early literature. 

The Notes and Gloffary by Mr. Sidney J. H. 
Herrtage will be found helpful in explaining many 
of the more obfcure words and phrafes in Rowlands' 
text. They might have been confiderably increafed, 
but there was lefs need for this as many admirable 
parallel helps are now acceffible to the ftudent. 

As a matter of bibliographical intereft, it may be 
ftated that only Two Hundred copies have been re- 
printed, exclufively for Members of The Hunterl\n 
Club, with ten additional copies for prefentation by 
the Council. 

Glasgoav. July, 1880. 



GossE, 12 leaves. 


SFAIRE, 1598, 30 do. 


HEAD-VAINE, 1600, 43 do. 


1602, --...---.26 do. 

AUE C^SAR. GOD SAUE THE KING, 1603, - 10 do. 

^ LOOKE TO IT: FOR, ILE STABBE YE, 1604, - 24 do. 

HELL'S BROKE LOOSE, 1605, 24 do 


DEATH, [1606?], 22 do. 

DIOGINES LANTHORNE, 1607, - - 24 do. 

)<. HVMORS LOOKING GLASSE, 1608, - - - - 16 do. 





N an age when the newly-awakened 
tafte for letters had fuddenly thrown 
open to men who could wield a pen 
every door that led to the arena of 
literary publicity, Samuel Rowlands 
made lefs effort than mofl of his 
contemporaries to gain the plaudits of the cultivated, 
or to fecure the grarland of laftin^ fame. His 
name appears in no lift of honoured poets in his 
own generation; in the next, his writings found no 
editor, and his life no biographer. He comes down to 
us merely as a voluble pamphleteer, of whofe nume- 
rous works fome are altogether loft, and others, be- 
come nearly unique, are purchafed by the curious 
at fuch prices for a fmgle copy as the author never 
made by a whole edition. Of the minor mafters 
of the Greek flage, of Ion or of lophon, we have 
plentiful record, though their works are gone; but in 
the cafe of the leffer ftars of the Elizabethan galaxy 
the work of oblivion has been reverfed — we have 
their works, but not the record of their lives. In 
no cafe has hiftory been more perfiftent in filence 

Memoir on 

than when fummoned to give us news of Samuel 
Rowlands. Of almoft every other writer we have 
fucceeded in difcovering fomething; but of him no- 
thing. We do not know when he was born, or when 
he died, whether he was a fcholar of either univerfity, 
whether he had taken orders, or whether he had 
married a wife. It is left to us, therefore, as to 
thofe who map the heavens, to draw an approximate 
outline of his life by the conjun6lion of thofe works 
or ftars that form his conftellation. They are very 
numerous, they extend over a period of thirty years, 
and they give fome, but very ilight, internal evidence 
of their author's perfonality. 

In all probability Samuel Rowlands was born 
foon after 1570. We may roughly conje6lure that 
1573, the year that faw the birth of Donne and of 
Ben Jonfon, faw his alfo. Should this be corre6l, he 
was from fix to eighteen years younger than the five 
famous friends in whofe fteps he was to walk, with a 
gentler, tamer tread than theirs. When he was 
about ten years old. Lodge, Peele and Greene began 
to write, and it was not long before Nalh and Mar- 
lowe joined the company of the penners of love- 
pamphlets. Thefe men, united rather by their pro- 
fligate habits than any innate fmiilarity of genius, 
were among the firft profeffional men of letters in 
England. Lodge and Greene began as Euphuifts, 
at the feet of Lyly ; they were drawn by the example 
of Nafli into the pra6lice of fatire, and into the 
compilation of catch-penny pamphlets on paffmg 

Samuel Rowlands. 

events. They very quickly ran through their brief 
careers, and had already died or retired from public 
life before Rowlands began to write. But their in- 
fluence had been immenfe; they had inaugurated a 
new epoch in popular literature; and though the 
main current of fuch writing proceeded to flow in 
the channel of the drama, they flill counted their 
followers in the younger generation. Of thefe 
followers Rowlands, and fifteen years later Braith- 
wait, were the moft important, and to both of thefe 
authors, entirely negle6led for more than two cen- 
turies, public intereft has of late returned. That 
either the one or the other was a writer of much 
merit, or deferved in any ftri6l fenfe the name of 
poet, may eafily and fafely be denied, but neither 
lacks that quality of force that renders an author 
worthy of more than mere antiquarian attention. 

Like Drayton, and other fecular poets of that age, 
Rowlands commenced his career with a volume of 
devotional pieces. The Betraying of Ckri/l, which 
bore the more apt fub-title of Poems on the Pajfion, 
appeared in 1598, and went through two editions 
within that year. We have gueffed the age of the 
author at twenty-five, and certainly the ftyle of his 
verfes gives us no fign of precocity or extreme youth. 
The poems are indeed remarkably fmooth, with the 
even grace and monotonous polifh of a writer to 
whom the art of verfe prefents no difficulties and 
contains no furprifes. They are compofed in an 
heroic flanza of fix lines, rime royal with the fifth 

Memoir on 

line omitted, and this form, one of the fimpleft that 

can be devifed, remained a favourite with Rowlands 

until he ceafed to pubHfh. But it was not with 

nervelefs paraphrafes of the New Teftament that he 

was deftined to catch the popular ear. In 1600 he 

produced two works which greatly extended his 

reputation, and made him, if not famous, at leaft 

widely notorious. The firft of thefe, entitled A 

Merry Meeting, or tis merry when Knaves meet, was 

fuccefsfully fuppreffed by the authorities, and has only 

come down to us in an expunged edition of 1609. 

It was fo oftenfive in its perfonality, fo acrid in its 

fatire, that it was ordered to be burned publicly, and 

in the Hall Kitchen of the Stationers' Company. A 

month later the poet hurried through the prefs 

another colle6lion, The Letting of Hu7noMr s Blood in 

the Head Vaine, and this has fortunately come down 

to us in at leaft four copies. It is a very creditable 

produ6lion, full of the animation of the time, with 

none of its pedantry, and a little of its genius. The 

greater part of the book is occupied with fmall 

fatirical pieces, called Epigrams, defcribing, mainly 

in the fix-line ftanza, thofe fantaftic figures of the 

day which the poets delighted to caricature. Thefe 

are very well written, clear, pointed, and even, never 

rifmg to the incifive melody of a great poet, but 

never finking below a fairly admirable level, while 

for the ftudent of manners they abound in pi6lurefque 

detail and realiftic painting. The following lines 

from an addrefs to the poet's contemporaries, ftripped 

Samuel Rowlands. 

of their antique fpelling, give a fair notion of the 
modern tone of the book, and its eafy elegance : — 

*' Will you Hand fpending your invention's treafure 
To teach flage parrots fpeak for penny pleafure, 
While you yourfelves, like mufic-founding lutes, 
Fretted and flrange, gain them their filken fuits? 
Leave Cupid's cut, women's face-flattering praife, 
Love's fubjedl grows too threadbare nowadays, 
Change Venus' fwans to write of Vulcan's geefe, 
And j-ou fhall merit golden pens apiece." 

The diflike of the theatre here fo ftrongly expreffed 
continued to the laft, and Rowlands feems never to 
have been tempted to try his fkill in the lucrative 
field of the ftage. It is not improbable that his 
facile pen and experience in the humours of low life 
would have enabled him to develop a comic talent 
which might have ranged between that of Dekker 
and that of Hey wood; but he would have miffed the 
tendernefs of the former, and the flowery fancy of 
the latter. The end of the volume called The 
Letting of Htimour s Blood \s compofed of fatires in 
the Roman ftyle, in heroic couplets. Here again 
Rowlands fliows rather his quicknefs in feizing an 
idea than his faculty for originating one, fince the 
trick of writing thefe pieces had been invented by 
Lodge in 1595, and had been imitated by Hall, 
Guilpin and Marfton before Rowlands adopted it. 
He is, however, in fome refpe6ls the fuperior of thefe 
preceding writers. In all probability he was not, as 
they were, men of any claffic learning, and he was 

Memoir on 

feduced by no defire of emulating Perfius into thofe 
harfh and involved conflru6lions which make the 
fatires of Donne and Marflon the wonder of gram- 

The early Avorks of Rowlands gave promife of 
much greater attainment than their author ultimately 
achieved. His fourth book, 'Tis Merry when Gojfips 
Meet, publifhed in 1602, is an admirable piece of 
comedy, bright, frelh, and limpid, and compofed in a 
ftyle only too dangeroufly fmooth and rapid. It 
opens with a fine tribute to Chaucer, " our famous 
reverend Englifli Poet," and proceeds to give a 
valuable piece of contemporary manners in a con- 
verfation between a gentleman and a bookfeller, in 
profe. The gentleman has no tafte for new books; 
he prefers the old ones. He fays, " Canfl help me 
to all Greene's Books in one volume? But I will 
have them every one, not any wanting." The modern 
book-hunter ftarts at the idea of a volume containing 
all Greene's works in the original quartos; even the 
bookfeller of 1602 finds that he has fome half-a-dozen 
lacking. Then the gentleman is urged to buy a book 
of Nafh's, but he has it already; at laft he is per- 
fuaded to buy the very poem to which this conver- 
fation is a preface, and we are interefled to learn 
that he pays fixpence for it, lefs than one-thoufandth 
part of the fum that would be afked to-day for a 
clean copy. The poem is in Rowlands' ufual fix- 
line flanza, but it is fingular among his works as 
being in a dramatic form. It is in fa6l a dialogue 

Samuel Rowlands. 

between a Widow, a Wife, a Maid, and a Vintner. 
The Widow meets the Wife, whom fhe has not feen 
for a long time, outfide a tavern, and while they fland 
talking the Maid goes by. The Widow ftops her, 
and vows that they muft all three drink a glafs to- 
gether before they part. The Wife and the Maid 
obje6l, but their obje61:ions are overruled by the 
boifterous joviality of the Widow, who drags them 
into the tavern. They are fhown upftairs into a 
private room, and the Vintner brings them claret. 
Over their wine they difcufs old times and their pre- 
fent fortunes in a very humorous and natural way. 
The Widow is a coarfe, good-humoured woman, full 
of animal fpirits, and ftill rebellious with the memory 
of her red-haired hufband, who ufed her ill; the 
Wife, on the other hand, praifes her hufband, an 
eafy foul who lets her have her way; the Maid talks 
very little at firft, but as fhe warms with the wine, 
fhe defcribes the fort of hufband fhe means to have. 
Prefently they finifh the claret, and the Wife and the 
Maid wifh to go, but the Widow will not hear of it, 
but bids the Vintner burn fome fack and fry fome 
faufages. Over this feaft they linger a long while 
goffiping, till the Maid has burning cheeks, and the 
Widow becomes indifputably drunk. She talks fo 
broadly that the Vintner s boy laughs, and then fhe 
becomes extremely dignified, iniifting on an apology. 
In the end fhe patronifes the Vintner, and makes 
him drink with them; and when at lafb her friends 
rife to go, fhe infifts on paying the whole reckoning. 

Memoir on 

It will be feen that the poem has no plot, and that 
the contents are very flight; but the workmanftiip is 
admirable, and the little realiftic touches combine to 
form an interior as warm and full in colour as any 
painted by Brouwer or Oftade. It is one of the bed 
ftudies oi genre we poffefs in all Elizabethan litera- 
ture. 'Tis Merry when Gqffips Meet went through 
at leaft feven editions before the end of the century. 
Simultaneoufly with this humorous poem, Row- 
lands publifhed, in 1602, a colle6lion of profe ftories 
of fmart cheating and cofening under the title of 
Gree7te's Ghojl Haunting Coney catchers, adopting this 
popular name to attra6l public notice. As a catcher 
of rabbits, or conies, trades upon the flupidity of his 
victims, fo it was reprefented by the pamphleteers of 
the day that knaves took advantage of the credulity 
of fimple citizens, and hence the popularity of a title 
that Greene had invented, but which found a fcore 
of imitators. Rowlands' tales are lively, but for us 
the main intereft of the book centres in its preface 
and in its addrefs to the reader, in which Rowlands 
comes forward diftin6lly as a pamphleteer, difclaiming 
any pretenfion to learning or an ambitious flyle. 
From this time forth he appears folely as a caterer 
for the frivolous and cafual reader, and demands 
notice rather as a journalift than as an author. His 
little books are what we fhould now term fecial 
articles; they anfwer exadlly to the "middles" of 
our beft weekly newfpapers. Our curiofity is ex- 
cited by the lapfes in his compofition, and we wonder 

Samuel Rowlands. 

how fuch a man fubfifted in the intervals between 
the pubHcation of his works. His familiarity with 
the book-trade, and his cunning way of adapting his 
titles and fubje6ls to the exacl tafte of the moment, 
fuggeft that he may have found employment in one 
of the bookfellers' fhops. In this conne6lion we 
turn in hope of confirmation to the imprints of his 
volumes, but in vain. He publifhed with a great 
variety of bookfellers, and rarely more than twice 
with the fame. From 1600 to 1605 he was, how- 
ever, in bufmefs with William White, in Pope's Head 
Alley, near the Exchange, and for ten years his 
tracts were fold by George Loftus, in Bifhopfgate 
Street, near the Angel. As Loftus would feem to 
have fucceeded White, or to have removed from his 
employment into a feparate bufmefs, it is within the 
bounds of legitimate fpeculation to guefs that Row'- 
LANDS fpent fifteen of his bufieft years in the employ- 
ment of thefe City bookfellers. 

In 1604 he publifhed, under the fenfational title of 
Looke to it, or I'll Stab You, a frefh colle6lion of 
fatirical characters in verfe, in form and fubftance 
precifely like the epigrams in his Letting of Humour s 
Blood. His ftyle had by this time reached its higheft 
refinement and purity, without the flighteft trace of 
elevation. The chara6ler of the Curious Divine 
forms a good example of his fluent and profaic 
verfe : — 

" Divines, that are together by the ears, 

Puffed up, high-minded, feedfmen of diffention, 

Memoir on 

Striking until Chrifl's feamlefs garment tears, 

Making the Scripture follow your invention, 
Negledling that whereon the foul fhould feed, 
Employed in that whereof fouls have no need. 

Curious in things you need not ftir about. 

Such as concern not matter of falvation, 
Giving offence to them that are without, 

Upon whofe weaknefs you fhould have compaflion, 
Caufing the good to grieve, the bad rejoice, 
Yet you, with Martha, make the worfer choice, 

I'll flab you!" 

From this time forward every year faw one, at 
leaft, of his facile produclions. In 1605 it was Hell's 
Broke Loo/e, one of the pooreft things he ever wrote, hah • 
a mean kind of epic poem in his favourite fix-line ^^^ NAofit. 
ftanza, on the life and death of John of Leyden. In 
the fame year he returned to his firft love, and pub- 
lifhed A Theatre of Divine Recreation, a colle6lion 
of religious poems, founded on the Old Teftament. 
This book, which was in exiftence as late as 181 2, 
has difappeared. 

The beft of all Rowlands' works, from a literary 
point of view, is the rareft alfo. A Terrible Battle 
between Tivie and Death exifts only in a fmgle copy, 
which has been bound in fuch a way that the imprint 
and date are loft. There is little doubt, however, 
that the latter was 1606. The dedication is odd; 
Rowlands infcribes his book to a Mr. George Gay- 
wood, whom he does not perfonally know, but who 
has fhown more than fatherly kindnefs to a friend of 
the author's. We wonder if the "friend" may have 

Samuel Rowlands. 

been the author's wife, by a concealment not un- 
precedented in that age, and Mr. Gaywood her god- 
father or patron. At any rate, fome fnigular chain of 
circumftances feems hinted at In this very cryptic 
dedication. The poem itfelf contains the beft things 
that Rowlands has left behind him. It opens in a 
moll folemn and noble ftrain, with a clofer echo of the 
auguft mufic of the tragic Elizabethans than Rowlands 
attains anywhere elfe. 

" Dread potent Monfter, mighty from thy birth, 
Giant of flrength againft all mortal power, 
God's great Earl Marfhal over all the earth, 
Taking account of each man's dying hour. 
Landlord of graves and tombs of marble flones. 
Lord Treafurer of rotten dead-men's bones," 

thus Time addreffes Death, whom he has met 
wandering over the world on his dread miffion. 
But Death cannot flay to talk with him; he has to 
mow down proud kings and tender women, gluttons 
and atheifls and fwaggering bullies, all who live 
without God, and take no thought of the morrow. 
Yet Time beguiles him to ftay awhile, fmce, without 
Time, Death has no lawful right or power, and fo 
they agree to converfe together while half the fand 
runs through the hour-glafs of Time. Their conver- 
fation deals with the obvious moralities, the frivolity 
of man, the folemnity of eternity, the various modes 
in which perfons of different cafts of chara6ler meet 
the advent of death. The dialogue is dignified, even 
where it is moft quaint, and the reader is reminded 


Memoir on 

of the devotional poetry of a later time, fometimes of 
Herbert, more often of Ouarles. But Rowlands 
has not the flrength of wing needed for thefe moral 
flights; his poem becomes tedious and then grotefque. 
At the clofe of Time's pleafant converfation with 
Death, they fall out, and the latter, who prides him- 
felf on his perfonal beauty, is extremely difconcerted 
at the rudenefs with which Time compares his arm 
and hand to a gardener's rake, and his head to a dry 
empty oil jar. After thefe amenities the reader pre- 
pares for that " terrible bloody battle " promifed on 
the title-page, but he is difappointed, for the pair 
make up their quarrel immediately, and proceed to- 
gether to their mortuary labours. 

The year 1607 was one of great literary activity 
with Rowlands. He publifhed no lefs than three 
books, though, fmgularly enough, we poffefs the 
firft edition of but one of thefe. A work of 1607, 
of which the firft edition has been loft, is Do6lor 
Merryman, a feries of bright fallies in verfe, de- 
fcribing and ridiculing the popular affe6tations or 
" humours " of the day. In this book a (light change 
of tone is apparent; the fun becomes broader, the 
ftyle more liquid, and Rowlands reminds us of a 
writer the very oppofite of an ordinary Eliza- 
bethan, namely Peter Pindar, and fometimes of 
the younger Colman. That the fmartnefs and 
voluble wit have not entirely evaporated yet ac- 
counts for the immenfe popularity enjoyed by fuch 
a work as this when it was new; yet fuch writing 


Samuel Rowlands. 

can hardly be admitted to a place in literature. k-lAB.R.ui>Ap(4 
Another humorous volume of 1607, Six London 
Goffips, has abfolutely difappeared, and the only firft 
edition of that prolific year which we ftill poffefs is 
Diogejies Lanthorn. In 1591 Lodge had ufed the 
name of Diogenes for the title of a profe fatire, and 
Rowlands' is but a feeble copy of that quaint and 
witty book. Lodge brings out the venom of Dio- 
genes in a dialogue, Rowlands makes him foliloquife, 
and after his cynical monologue in the ftreets of 
Athens, abruptly drops his hero, and clofes the 
volume with a feries of fables, put into eafy popular 
verfe with his cuftomary facility. 

In The Famotcs Hijiory of Gtty, Earl of Warwick 
he fhowed very plainly the limitation of his powers. 
This poem, printed in 1608, as if in heroic couplets, 
but really in the fix-line ftanza, was fpoken of by Mr. 
Utterfon as a travefty, intended to bring chivalric 
literature into ridicule, but this was entirely a miftake. 
Nothing could be more ferious than the twelve heavy 
cantos of Rowlands' tedious romance, which feems 
to have been written in imitation or emulation of 
Fairfax's Taffo, publifhed a few years earlier. 

The year 1608 alfo faw the publication of Hti- 
niotirs Looking-Glaffe, a colle6lion precifely fimilar 
in chara6ler to The Letting of Humour s Blood. As 
before, we find no fpark of poetic fancy, but plenty 
of rhetorical fl<:ill, a pifturefque and dire^l; ftyle, and 
much defcriptive verve. The boaflful traveller was 
a frequent and favourite fubje6l with the poets of 


Memoir on 

Elizabeth; he was a produdl of their fhowy and 
grandiloquent age, and, while they laughed at his 
bravado, they were half inclined to like him for his 
impudence. But not one of them has drawn his 
portrait better than Rowlands has in Humour s 
Looking- Glajfe : — 

''Come, my brave Gallant, come, uncafe, uncafe! 
Ne'er fliall oblivion your great adls deface : 
He has been there where never man came yet. 
An unknown country, aye, I'll warrant it; 
Whence he could ballafl a good fliip in hold 
With rubies, fapphires, diamonds and gold, 
Great orient pearls efleemed no more than notes, 
Sold by the peck, as chandlers meafure oats; 
I marvel, then, we have no trade from thence? 
' Oh! 'tis too far, it will not bear expenfe.' 
"Twere far, indeed, a good way from our main. 
If charges eat up fuch exceffive gain. 

I heard him fwear that he, — 'twas in his mirth, — 
Had been in all the corners of the earth; 
Let all his wonders be together flitched. 
He threw the bar that great Alcides pitched; 
Yet he that faw the Ocean's farthefl flrands. 
You pofe him if you aflc where Dover Hands." 

It would be difficult to quote a more favourable 
example of Rowlands' verfification, and there are 
lines in this paffage which Pope would not have 
difdained to ufe. It might, indeed, be employed as 
a good argument againft that old herefy, not even 
yet entirely difcarded, that fmoothnefs of heroic verfe 
was the invention of Waller. As a matter of fa6l, 


Samuel Rowlands. 

this, as well as all other branches of the univerfal art 
of poetry, was underflood by the great Elizabethan 
mafters; and if they did not frequently employ it, 
it was becaufe they left to fuch humbler writers as 
Rowlands an inftrument incapable of thefe noble 
and audacious harmonies on which they chiefly 
prided themfelves. 

In 1609, unlefs I am wrong in my conjecture that 
the Whole Crew of Kind GoJJips of that year was 
but a new edition of the Six London GoJJips of 1607, 
Rowlands confined himfelf to the reprinting of 
feveral of his tra6ls, and to this fa6l we owe the 
poffeffion of one or two of the earlier books already 
defcribed. His firft book of fatires, which had been 
condemned to be burned in 1600, he now brought 
out aneW; under the title of The Knave oj Clubs, and 
as in this later form it contains nothing which could 
reafonably give offence, it is to be fuppofed that the 
peccant paffages had been expunged. It is not a 
very clever performance, rather dull and ribald, and 
inferior in vivacity to the Fables at the clofe of 
Dioge7ies' Lo.nthor7t. 

The Whole Crew oJ Kind GoJJips is a fairly 
diverting defcription of fix citizens' wives, who meet 
in council to denounce their hufbands, the latter pre- 
sently entering to addrefs the public, and turn the 
tables on their wives. This humble fort of Lyfi/lrata 
has nothing very Ariftophanic about it; it is, indeed, 
one of Rowlands' failures. Seldom has he fecured a 

fubje6l fo well fuited to his genius for low humour, 



Memoir on 

and never has he fo completely miffed the point of 
the fituation. The writing fhows traces of rapid and 
carelefs compofition, the fpeeches of the wives are 
wanting in variety and charatler, and thofe of the 
hufbands are dragged on without rhyme or reafon, 
unannounced and unexplained. The language, how- 
ever, it muft be confeffed, is admirably clear and 
modern. It is to be feared that our poet had fallen 
upon troublous days, for his worjks about this time 
are the merefl catch-penny things, thrown off with- 
out care or felf-refpedl. Martin Mark-all, his con- 
tribution to 1610, is an arrant piece of book-making. 
It profeffes to be an hiftorical account of the rife and 
progrefs of roguery up to the reign of Henry VIII., 
as ftated to the Bellman of London b}- the Beadle of 
Bridewell. It has this fpecial intereft to modern 
ftudents, that it contains a very curious di6lionary of 
canting terms, preceding by more than half-a-century 
that In the Englijli Rogue. Moreover, buried in a 
great deal of trafh, it includes fome valuable biogra- 
phical notes about famous highwaymen and thieves 
of the fixteenth century. It is entirely in profe, 
except fome queer Gipfy fongs. The wrath of 
Dekker, it is fuppofed, was roufed b)' a charge of 
plagiarifm brought againft fome author unknown in 
this book, and he attacked Rowlands in his Lanthorn 
and Candlelight. This ver}- flight rencontre is the 
only incident that affociates Rowlands with any of 
his contemporaries, and even this might fairly be 
difputed on the ground of dates. 


Samuel Rowlands. 

The fuccefs of the Knave of Clubs induced Row- 
lands to repeat his venture with the Knave of Harts 
in 1612 and The Knaves of Spades and Diamonds in 
1613. Thefe works are in no way to be diflinguifhed 
from thofe that preceded them ; their author was per- 
haps growing a little coarfer, a little heavier, but for 
the reft there is the fame low and trivial view of life, 
the fame eafy fatire, the fame fluency and purity of 
language. The increafmg heavinefs of his ftyle is 
flill more plainly feen in his next work, A FooVs 
Bolt is foon Shot, though this is far from being 
the worfl of his produ6lions. In this volume, fure 
of a large body of readers, he difdains the artifices 
of a dedication, and fimply infcribes his poem "to 
Rafh Judgment, Tom Fool and his fellows." It 
confifts of a feries of tales, in heroic verfe, con- 
cerning the practical blunders of all forts of foolifli 
people, and thefe fhories happen to be particu- 
larly rich in thofe perfonal details that make 
the works of Rowlands fo valuable to anti- 

By far the beft written and mofl important of his 
late works is the Melancholy Knight of 1615. The 
title-page of this pamphlet is adorned by a moft 
curious woodcut, faithfully rendered in facfimile in 
our prefent reprint. This reprefents a gentleman, 
apparalled in the richeft gala-drefs of that period, 
with his hat pulled over his eyes, and his head 
deeply funken in his capacious ruff of point-lace. 
His arms are folded before him, and he lounges 


Memoir on 

on, loft in a melancholy reverie. It is he who is 
fuppofed to indite the poems. He fays: — 

" I have a melancholy fkull. 
That's almoll fractured 'tis fo full ! 
To eafe the fame thefe lines I write ; 
Tobacco boy! a pipe! fome light !" 

His refle(5lions upon the follies and knaveries of the 
age, its vices, its affe6lations, and its impertinencies, 
are full of bright and delightful reading, but moft of 
all when it is found that the Knight is a book-worm, 
and fpends his time in devouring old folio romances 
and chivalric tales " of ladies fair and lovely knights," 
like any Don Quixote ; and moft of all when he ven- 
tures to recite a very touching ballad of his own 
about Sir Eglamour and the Dragon, No doubt 
the fame of Cervantes' mafterpiece, publifhed juft ten 
years before, had reached the Englifh pamphleteer, 
and he had certainly feen The Knight of the Burniiig 
Pejile, performed in 1611; Rowlands was never 
original, but he was very quick in adopting a new 
idea. In fome of the defcriptions of oddity in the 
Melancholy Knight he fhows a greater richnefs in 
expreffion than in his early works. He had pro- 
bably read the fatires of Donne. 

The remaining works of Rowlands need not detain 
us very long. In 16 17 he publifhed a poem called 
The Bride, but it is loft. In 16 18 he brought out 
A Sacred Me?nory of the Miracles of Chri/i, remark- 
able only for the preface, in which he exhorts " all 
faithful Chriflians " with fuch a confident unction as 

Samuel Rowlands. 

to fug-gefl that he may poffibly by this time have 
found a fphere for his energies within the Church of 
England. In the poems themfelves there is nothing 
important; they prefent all the features of conven- 
tionality and effete piety which are to be met with 
in Englifh poems on facred narrative fubje6ls before 
the days of Ouarles. With The Night Raven, in 
1620, and Good News and Bad News, in 1622, the 
long feries of Rowlands' humoriftic ftudies clofes. 
Thefe two books, exadlly like one another in flyle, 
confift of the ufual chain of ftorles^ lefs ably told than 
before, but ftill occupied, as ever, with knavery and 
fimplicity, the endlefs joke, now repeated to fatiety, 
at the eafe with which dulnefs is gulled by roguery. 
According to all probable computation, Rowlands 
by this time was at leaft fifty years of age; and after 
producing this fort of homely poetry for more than a 
quarter of a century, he poffibly found that the public 
he once addreffed had abandoned him. At all events. 
Good Newes and Bad Neiues is the laft of his comic 

Six years later there appeared a little duodecimo 
volume of facred verfe and profe, entitled Heavens 
Glory, Seek it; EartJis Vanity, Fly it; HelVs Horror^ 
Fear it. Under this affe(5led title a writer who figns 
himfelf Samuell Rowland iffues a colle6lion of fuffi- 
ciently tedious homilies, interfperfed with divine 
poems. That this book was written by Samuel 
Rowlands has been freely affirmed, and as freely 
denied; but I do not think that any doubt on the 
fubje6l can remain on the mind of any one who care- 

Memoir on 

fully reads it. The profe pages, it is true, have all 
that dogged infipidity and abfolute colourleffnefs of 
ftyle which marks the minor theological literature of 
the feventeenth century, but the poems are not fo 
undecipherable. They are printed in a delufive 
way, fo as to feem to be in a fhort ballad metre; but 
they are really, in all cafes, compofed in that iden- 
tical fix-line ftanza which Rowlands affedled through- 
out his life. Nor is there more fimilarity to his 
authentic poems in the form than in the ftyle of thefe 
religious pieces. There is precifely the fame fluid 
verfification, the fame eafy and fenfible mediocrity, 
and the fame want of elevation and originality. At 
the end of the hortatory work there is found a col- 
ledlion of Prayers for ufe in Godly Families, and 
appended to thefe latter a colle6lion of poems entitled 
Cofmnon Calls, Cries and Sounds of the Bellman, con- 
fifting of religious pofies and epigrams, very poorly 
written, but ftill diflin6lly recognifable as the work 
of Rowlands. I do not think there can be the 
flighteft doubt that this mifcellaneous volume is rightly 
included among his veritable works. 

From this year (1628) he paffes out of our fight, 
having kept the bookfellers bufily engaged for exactly 
thirty years. His books continued to find a fale for 
another half century, and were reprinted at leaft as 
late as 1675. But they were confidered as fcarcely 
above the rank of chap-books, and Rowlands is in- 
cluded among the Englifh poets in not one of the 
lifts of contemporary or former authors. In 1630 
he wrote a few verfes of congratulation to his loving 

Samuel Rowlands. 

friend John Taylor, the Water Poet, and in earHer 
life he had paid the fame compliment to two flill more 
obfcure writers. In 1612, W. Parkes, of whom ab- 
folutely nothing is known, quoted a fhort poem by 
Rowlands in his Curtain- Drawer of the World. 
Such, and fuch alone, are the minute points of con- 
nection with his contemporaries which the moft 
patient fcholarfhip has fucceeded in difcovering, and 
they fhoAV a literary ifolation which would be 
aftounding in fo fertile an author if we were not to 
confider the undignified and ephemeral nature of 
Rowlands' writings, which the paffage of time has 
made interefting to us, but which to his cultivated 
contemporaries muft have fcarcely feemed to belong 
to literature at all. 

In an age when newfpapers were unknown and 
when poetry was flill the favourite channel for 
popular thought, fuch pamphlets as thofe of Samuel 
Rowlands formed the chief intelle6lual pabulum of 
the apprentice and of his mafter's wife, of the city 
fhopkeeper and of his lefs genteel cuftomers. When 
we confider the clafs addreffed, and the general 
licence of thofe times, we fhall be rather inclined to 
admire the reticence of the author than to blame his 
occafional coarfenefs. Rowlands is never immoral, 
he is rarely indecent; his attitude towards vice of all 
forts is rather indifferent, and he affumes the judicial 
air of a fatirifl with fmall fuccefs. He has neither 
the integrity nor the favagery that is required to 
write fatire; he neither indulges in the fenfual rage 
of Donne, nor the clerical indignation of Hall; he is 


Memoir on Samuel Rowlands. 

always too much amufed at vice to be thoroughly 
angry with it. His favourite fubje6l of contemplation 
is a fharper; to his effentially bourgeois mind nothing 
feems fo irrefiftibly funny as the trick by which a 
fhrewd rafcal becomes poffeffed of the purfe or the 
good name of an honefl fool; and no doubt it was 
this that peculiarly endeared his mufe to the appren- 
tice and to the ferving-maid. As a purely literary 
figure he has little importance fave what he owes to 
thofe details which were commonplace in his own 
time, but which are of antiquarian importance to us. 
Yet, however accidental the merit may be, we can- 
not refufe to Rowlands the praife of having made 
the London of Shakefpeare almoft more vivid to us 
than any other author has done. In his earlier 
works, and efpeclally in his 'Tis Merry when GoJJips 
Meet, he has difplayed the exiftence in him of a 
comic vein which he negle6led to work, but which 
would have affured him a brilliant fuccefs if he had 
had the happy thought of writing for the ftage. In 
comedy thofe bright and facile qualities of ftyle 
which are wafted in the frivolous repetitions of his 
later tales and fatires, might have ripened into a 
veritable dramatic talent. As it is, he is a kind of 
fmall non-political Defoe, a pamphleteer in verfe 
whofe talents were never put into exercife except 
when their poffeffor was preffed for means, and a 
poet of confiderable talent without one fpark or 
orlimmer of grenius. 





[By Sir Walter Scott.] 

The curiofity of the prefent age has been much 
directed towards the fugitive pieces of the reigns of 
EHzabeth and James I. both as illuftrating obfcure 
paffages of Shakfpeare, and of our earher dramatifts, 
and as containing an authentic record of the private 
Hfe of our forefathers. The following poems will be 
found to gratify, in no common degree, the curious 
antiquary who inveftigates thefe fubje6ls; and as the 
original volume is rare, and bears a high price among 
collectors, it is hoped that the prefent very limited 
impreffion may render the knowledge which it con- 
tains acceffible to fome who have not an opportunity 
to consult the original edition.^ A very few notes 

1 [To " The Letting of Humours Blood in the Head Vaine, &c., 
by S. Rowlands. Edinburgh: Reprinted by James Ballantyne 
& Co. for William Laing, and William Blackwood. 1815."] 

2 ["What an oddity, and non-defcript compound, was that Samuel 
Rowlands! — and why do I notice him here? Simply, becaufe I 
firmly believe that a complete colledtion of his pieces, low, queer, 
comical, and contradi6lory, as they may be, could not be procured 
under the fum of 300 sovereigns. Judge for yourfelf, candid 
reader. New and clean Packs of Cards are ufually procurable for 
4s. 6d. : but if you only want the Knave of Clubs — together 
with the Kjiave of Spades and Diamonds and Knave of Hearts, 
of Mailer Rowlands (poems, publiflied by him in 1611-1612, 
4to) you mufl pay ^35 3s. 6d. — according to the text of 

Bibliographical Index. 

are added, lefs with the purpofe of ilkiftrating the 
epigrams and fatires, than of fhewing, in fome degree, 
their conne<5lion with the literature and domeftic hif- 
tory of the age in which they were written.' 

The fantaflic title which the author has chofen 
ferves to explain the purpofe of his fatire. The pre- 
fent age is diftinguifhed by an uniformity of fafhion- 
able folly. The more ambitious coxcombs of our 
forefathers' day, affe6led to diftinguifh themfelves, 
not only from the fober-minded public, and from the 
vulgar, but from each other, for which purpofe each 
affumed a flrain of peculiarity, however abfurd and 
fantaflic, and, in the phrafe of heraldry, bore his folly 
with a difference. Thus every fafliionable gallant 
varied in mien and manner from his companions, as 
widely as all did from fober demeanour and common 
fenfe. Ben Jonfon, who piqued himfelf upon de- 
lineating with comic accuracy, and with fatirical force, 
the peculiar ftrains of thought and manner called 
humours, obferves, with fome indignation, that thofe 
who could make no pretenfion to that original flrain 
of thought and adtion to which he would willingly 

the priced catalogue of Bindley's Library!! And again? for 
his Betrayal of Chrijl, 1598, 4to, ^2\ : oppofed to his Doilor 
Merric-Mati, 1609, 4to, ^15. Thefe two prices are taken from 
the Bibl. Angl. Poet, where, to the Night Raven, 1634, 4to, the 
ominous fum of j£'^o is attached, the pages of this work are rich 
in Rowlandiana; and Mr. Thorpe's well-fiirnifhed catalogue, 
p. 127, prefents us with three other pieces of the poet, for ;^i4 14s. 
coUecSlively." — Rev. T. F. Dibdin: The Library Companion, 
p. 711, fecond edition, London, 1825.] 

^ [Thefe Notes will be found incorporated in the " Gloffarial 
Index and Notes."] 

Bibliographical Index. 

reftricl; the term, afie6led fome diftin6lion or pecu- 
liarity in drefs or manner, in order to eflablifh their 
title to be called humourifts The real humour he 
defines to be 

When fome peculiar quality 

Doth fo poffefs a man, that it doth draw 
All his affe6ls, his fpirits, and his powers, 
In their conflu6lions, all to run one way; 
This may be truly faid to be a Humour. 
But that a rook, by wearing a pyed feather. 
The cable hat-band, or the three-piled ruff, 
A }'-ard of fhoe-tye, or the S^vitzer's knot 
On his French garters, fhould afife6l a Humour ; 
O, it is more than moll ridiculous ! 

Cor. He fpeaks pure truth; now if an idiot 
Have but an apifh or fantaflic flrain. 
It is his Humour. 

Our poet has given us numerous inftances both of 
the real and of the pfeudo-humourift ; and as he de- 
fcribed the fcenes in which he lived, and the follies 
which were a6led before his eyes, it is interefting to 
obferve, that the various affectations of the retainers 
of Sir John Falftaff, as well as thofe of the Bobadil, 
Stephen, and M after Matthew of Jonfon, and of the 
various comic chara6lers pourtrayed by Beaumont 
and Fletcher, were not, as modern readers might 
conceive them, the fantaftic creatures of the poet's 
imagination, but had in reality their prototypes upon 
the great fcene of the world. The author has in- 
deed pourtrayed examples of every fpecies of affe6la- 
tion, from the bombaflic vein of Ancient Piftol to 

Bibliographical Index. 

the melancholy and gentleman-like gravity of Mailer 

The book was firft publifhed in 1600, and met but 
a rude reception; for 26th 06lober, 1600, occurs the 
following order upon the records of Stationers' Hall : — 
" Yt is orderd, that the next court-day two bookes 
lately printed, thone called The Letting of Humors 
Blood in the Head Vayne; thother, A Mery Mctinge, 
or 'tis Mery when Knaves mete; fhal be publiquely 
burnt, for that they conteyne matters unfytt to be 
publifhed ; then to be burnd in the hall kytchen, with 
other popifh bookes and thinges that were lately 
taken." ^ From the feverity of this fentence it would 
feem that the chara61;ers drawn by the author were 
underflood to have reference to living perfons. Mr. 
Ames, who quotes the order, tells us, that feveral 
[twenty-nine, fee Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. ii., pp. 
832-3] of the trade were [March 4, 1 600-1,] fined two 
fhillings and fixpence a-piece for buying thefe ob- 
noxious works; but that it does not appear whether 
any penalty was impofed on the printer and publifher. 
He fuppofes the book had been reprinted after the 
deftru61ion of the firft edition, which gave rife to this 
fecond fentence. See Typographical Antiquities, 
edit. 1786, vol. ii,, p. 1266. 

It would feem that, in confequence of the prohibi- 
tion, and fines impofed on the trade who purchafed 
this little volume, the title was altered; for there are 

^ [No fuch entry appears under this date in Mr. Arber's Tranfcrtpt.'\ 

Bibliographical Index. 

two [three] editions under the title of "Humours Or- 
dinarie, where a Man maybe verie merie and exceeding 
well ufed for Sixpence," one [two] without date, and 
one in 1607. But in 16 11, William White adventured 
to republifh the work under its original title, a few 
years having made fuch changes as removed the 
original obje6lions, or perhaps the licence of the 
prefs having become more extended. With the ad- 
dition of this preliminary advertifement, and a few 
trifling notes, the prefent edition is an exa6l fac- 
fimile of that of 16 11. 

The literary merit of a rare work is a poftponed 
obje6l of enquiry to the Bibliomaniac; but even in 
this point of view fomething may be faid for the 
credit of our author. He anatomifes in his rugged 
numbers the follies of the time in which he lived with 
a fatirical force not inferior to that of Hall or Donne, 
and may even boaft with old Ben himfelf, 

My flricl hand 

Was made to feize on vice, and with a gripe 
Squeeze out the humour of fuch fpongy natures 
As lick up every idle vanity. * 

^["A prolific and very able writer of fugitive pieces during the 
reign of James I. He commenced authorfhip, however, as it 
here appears, while Elizabeth was flill on the throne; and in 1598 
his maiden effort, a volume of facred poems, entitled The Be- 
traying of Chriji, Sac, Y>^^&d through two impreffions." — Warton's 
Hijlory of EtigliJJi Poetry, edit. W. C. Hazlitt, 187 i, vol. iv., p. 417. 

"He [Rowlands] was, in fa6l,more of a humouriflthan of a fatirift, 
and in the latter department he is not to be compared with his imme- 
diate contemporaries, Donne, Hall, or Marflon;but his epigrams and 
lighter performances are feldom without point, fpirit, and pleafantry, 
and mofl of his pieces were often reprinted in confequence of the 

Bibliographical Index. 

The author, Samuel Rowlands, was a prolific 
pamphleteer in the reigns of Elizabeth, James I. and 
Charles I. and wrote many fugitive pieces, fome few re- 
ligious, but for the molt part local and perfonal fatires. 
The induftry of Ritfon (fee Bibliographia [Poetica], 
p. 316) has muftered a numerous catalogue of his 
works, yet there are feveral omiffions which have 
been fupplied by more recent refearch. Sir Egerton 
Brydges has made fome addition to the lift, in the 
Cenfura Literaria, vol. ii., p. 150. And fpecimens of 
two curious fatires, entitled " The Knave of Clubs," 
and "The Knave of Hearts," are given in the [Britifli] 
Bibliographer, vol. ii., p. 103. The firft of thefe had 
the fate of the following work, being condemned to the 
kitchen of the Stationers' Company in the year 1 600. 
At p. 549 of the fame volume, the ingenious and in 
duftrious bibliographer analyzes briefly two other 
treatifes of Rowlands, " The Melancholy Knight," 
namely, and a colle6lion of religious tracts, entitled 
" Heaven's Glory," &c. 

Excepting that he lived and wrote, none of thefe 
induftrious antiquaries have pointed out any par- 
popular demand for them. If they are now and then a little coarfe 
or indecorous, the blame, if any, belongs to the period at which 
they were written : Rowlands was not more faulty in this refpecl 
than moil of his jocular rhyming rivals." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: 
Introdu6lion to "Humors Looking Glafs," 1608, Yel/mu Series, 
No. 10. 

" Though a rapid and carelefs writer, he occafionally exhibits 
confiderable vigour, and has often fatirized with fpirit the manners 
and follies of his period. He may be juflly claffed as furmounting 
mediocrity." — Drake's Shakcfpcarc and his Times, 181 7, vol. i., 
p. 700.] 

Bibliographical Index. 

ticulars refpedling Rowland[s].^ It has been remarked, 
that his mufe is feldom found in the beft company; 
and, to have become fo well acquainted with the 
bullies, drunkards, gamefters, and cheats, whom he 
defcribes, he muft have frequented the haunts of dif- 
fipation, in which fuch characters are to be found. - 

^[" Who or what he was, beyond the fact that he wrote no fewer 
than about thirty fmall trails for his fubfiflence, and that nearly all 
of them were extremely popular, we know not." — Mr. J. Payne 
Collier: Introdudlion to " Good Newes and Bad Newes," YcUohj 
Series, No. 14. 

" Suppofed to have died about 1634, was the author and fup- 
pofed author of many poetical tra6ls." — Allibone's Critical 
Di6lionary of EngliJJi Literature, 1S70, vol. ii., p. 1883.] 

^["The mufe of Rowlands," fays Jofeph Haflewood, " is feldom 
found in good company. Her beft chara6lers are generally picked 
up by the way fide among the idle and vicious; fometimes on 
benches of tippling houfes, and too often the precincts of Bride- 
well; or from the crowd that ufually waited upon a delinquent 
wearing ' Tyburne-tiffany.' Her only intereft is founded upon 
locality of defcription, which may be prefumed a faithful, if not a 
flattering copy of the times." — BritiJIi Bibliographer, vol. ii., p. 105, 
London, 181 2. 

Thomas Campbell, author of the Pleaficres of Hope, quefdons 
the foregoing conclufion of Haflewood : — " The hiflory of this 
author [Rowlands] is quite unknown, except that he was a prolific 
pamphleteer in the reigns of Elizabeth, James I. and Charles I. 
Ritfon has muflered a numerous catalogue of his works, to which 
the compilers of the Cenfura Literaria have added fome articles. 
It has been remarked by the latter, that his mufe is generally 
found in low company, from which it is inferred that he frequented 
the haunts of diffipation. The conclufion is unjud — Fielding was 
not a blackguard, though he wrote the adventures of Jonathan 
Wild. His defcriptions of contemporary follies have confiderable 
humour. I think he has afforded in the following flory of Smug 
the Smith [fee ' The Night-Raven,' p. 26] a hint to Butler for his 
apologue of vicarious jullice, in the cafe of the brethren who 

Bibliographical Index. 

But the humorous defcriptions of low-Hfe exhibited 
in his fatires are more precious to antiquaries than 
more grave works, and thofe who make the manners 
of Shakfpeare's age the fubje6l of their ftudy may 
better fpare a better author than Samuel Rowlands. 
The following Colle(flion appears to have been the 
mofl popular of his numerous effufions, having, as has 
been fhewn, run through four [five] editions between 
1600 and 1 611. 

Abbotsford, ) 
ijl April, 1 8 14. ] 

hanged a ' a poor weaver that was bed-rid,' inftead of the cobbler 
who had killed an Indian, 

' Not out of malice, but mere zeal, 
Becaufe he was an Infidel.' 

HUDIBRAS, Part IL, Canto ii. 1. 420." 

Specimens of the Britt/h Poets, }^. 123: London, 1844.] 

Bibliographical Index. 

I. The Betraying of Christ. Ivdas in defpaire. The 
feuen Words of our Sauior on the Croffe. With 
other Poems on the Pafsion. LONDON. Printed by- 
Adam Iflip. 1598, 4to, 30 leaves. 

Three copies known : one in the Bodleian Library (bought 
in the fifth portion of the Corfer fale for £^ los.) ; 
another in the poffeffion of Mr. S. Chriftie-Miller, Britwell, 
Buckinghamfhire; and a third of a different iffue, formerly in 
Heber's Library.— See Mr. W. C. Hazlitt's Handbook, 
1867, p. 521. 

" He [Rowlands], poffibly, originally tried his fkill upon a facred 
fubjedl, 'The Betraying of Chrifl,' but not fucceeding, he reforted 
to fatire and epigram, and put forth his ' Letting of Humours 
Blood ' in 1600. To this ftyle he adhered, as we apprehend, with 
one exception, for the reft of his career, becaufe not only is 
'■ Heaven's Glory, feeke it; Earths Vanitie, flye it,' quite in another 
vein, but the author's name (a circumftance not hitherto noticed) 
is there printed Rowland, and not RoAvlands." — Mr. J. Payne 
Collier: Introdu6tion to Hvtnors Looking Glajje, 1608, Yellow 
Series, No. 10. 

" Neither Lowndes nor any of our bibliographers have noticed the 
fa6l, that there were two editions of this work printed in the fame 
year — the prefent one being the firft. The copy of the fame date 
defcribed in the Bibl. Ang. Foetica, 598, differs very materially from 
the one now under notice (which we believe to be the firft edition 
of this very rare facred Poem) in having a dedication ' To his deare 
affedled Friend Maifter H. W. Gentleman,' and fome ftanzas ad- 
dreffed ' To the Gentlemen Readers,' and alfo a poem in four line 
verfes entitled ' The highway to mount Calvarie,' which are not in 

Bibliographical Index. 

this edition. The title is ornamented with curious woodcut repre- 
fentations or emblematic allufions to the betrayal of Chrifl and his 
crucifixion, the crown of thorns, the reed, the fcourge, the cock, the 
lanthorn and fword, the nails, the crofs, and other implements of 
torture and of death. On the reverfe of the title is a woodcut re- 
prefentation of the arms and crefl of Sir Nicholas Walfh, Knight, 
' Chiefe Juflice of her Maieflies Court of Common Pleas in Ireland 
and of her Highneffe counfaill there,' to whom the work is dedi- 
cated. This was Rowlands' earliefl publication, and, with the ex- 
ception of one other piece, is the only one on a fubjedl of a facred 
nature. As one of the minor poets of his day, Rowlands was not 
without merit, and on fome grounds it is to be regretted that he was 
afterwards induced to turn his talents to pamphleteering and works 
of a more humorous and fatirical, but lefs reputable nature, pro- 
bably from finding them more popular and more eafily faleable- 
but the latter are fo extremely curious for the numerous allufions 
to the manners and cuftoms of the times, that their literary 
merit and moral tendency need fcarcely enter into confideration. 

It is poffible that the religious poems of Robert 

Southwell, Breton and others, which had jufl then appeared, may 
have fuggefled to Rowlands the flyle and fubje6l of thefe facred 
themes, which he afterwards abandoned for lighter and more pro- 
fane fubjedls, and which, as far as we know, were not again re- 
printed by him." — From Rev. Thomas Corser's unpublifhed MS. 
of ColleBanea Anglo-Poetica. 

II. The Letting of Hvmovrs Blood in the Head- 
VAINE. With a new Moriffco, daunced by feauen 
Satyres, vpon the bottome of Dioglnes Tubbe. At 
London, Printed by W. White for W. F. 

1600, 8vo, 43 leaves. 

Four copies of this tra6l are known : three in the Bodleian 
Library (one in the Malone, one in the Wood, and one 
in the Crynes colle6lion), and the fourth in the Britilh 

Bibliographical Index. 

Mufeum. Which of thefe firft appeared it would be hard to 
fay. The probability is that it was the Wood and Malone 
copies, from the fa6l that the line reading (B 2, line i): — 

" I fcorue to meete an enemie in feeelde," 

is corre6led in the Crynes copy to 

" I fcorne to meete an enemie in fielde." 

Leaf A 3 in the Malone copy is wanting. The one now re- 
printed is the Wood copy. In the Crynes copy there are 
lines " To his very good freend M. Hvgh Lee, Efquire," 
which are reprinted in the Mifcellaneous Poems. In the 
"Stationers' Regifters" (Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., 
p. 174) the following entry occurs: — 

" 16 Oaobris [i6oo] 

"william white. — Entred for his Copye vnder the handes of 
Mafter Pasfeild and the wardens A booke Called the 
lettmge of Humours blood in the head vayne with a newe 
morifco Daiinced by Seven Satyres vppon the bottome of 
DioGiNES tubbe . . . . . . vj^ " 

In the "Stationers' Regifters" we have this entry (Mr* 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. ii., pp. 832-3): — 

"4'° marcij [1601] 

" Receaued of thefe perfons folowinge [twenty-nine Stationers] 
the fommes infuyinge [two fhillings and fixpence each] for 
their Diforders in buyinge of the bookes of humours lettinge 
blood in the vayne beinge newe printed after yt was firfl for- 
bydden and burnt." 

Bibliographical Index. 

"When the work was firft publifhed in 1600, 'Printed by 
W, White/ it gave fuch offence, on account of the feverity of its 
fatire, and the obvioufnefs of its allufions, that an order was 
made that it fhould be burned, firft 'publicly,' and afterwards 
in the ' Hall-kitchen ' of the Stationers' Company. The book- 
feller therefore changed its title to ' Humours Ordinarie,' and 
publifhed an edition of it without date; but, after the feeling 
againfl the work had fubfided in 161 1, it again appeared as ' The 
Letting of Humors Blood in the Head-vaine,' although the 
printer, as we fee, thought it prudent not to put his name at length 
upon the title-page. The Epigrams are thirty-feven in number, 
with fix lines to introduce the ' feven Satires ' mentioned on the 
title-page. The temporary and perfonal allufions are extremely 
numerous and often curious; but fometimes feigned Latin names 
were employed to defignate private individuals, who feem otherwife 
to have been pretty clearly pointed out. Public characters are not 
treated with the fame referve : thus Pope and Singer, the comic 
adlors, are fpoken of by name, and as living when the firfl edition 
appeared in 1600; but, as they were both dead when that of 161 1 
came out, an alteration was made according with that circumflance. 
( ' See Shakefpeare's Actors,' p. 124 [SAakes. So^. 1846]) "—Mr. J. 
Payne Collier: Bibliographical Account, vol. ii., p. 284. 

Seven editions of this tra6l, at leaft, under its different titles, 
appeared between 1600 and 161 3. The edition of 161 1 was 
reprinted by Sir Walter Scott at Edinburgh in 18 15. 

in. Tis Merrie when Gofsips meete. At London, 
Printed by W. W. and are to fold by George Loftus 
at the Golden Ball in Popes-head Alley. 

1602, 4to, 23 leaves. 

Only one copy of this firft edition of 1602 is known to 
exift, and is in the library of Mr. S. Chriftie-Miller. It is, 
however, imperfe6l, wanting Sig. B: this latter has been 
fupplied from the third edition of 1609, ^^i^ is diftinguifhed in 

Bibliographical Index. 

the prefent reprint by being enclofed within fquare brackets. 
It is entered in the " Stationers' Regifters " thus (Mr. 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 216): — 

"15 Septembris [1602] 
" William whyte. — Entred for his Copie vnder th[e hjandes of 
mafter Hartwell and mafler waterfon warden A booke 
Called Tis merry when gofflps meete . . . vj^ 

We have a contemporary reference to this poem in the 
" Diary of John Manningham, of the Middle Temple, and 
of Bradbourne, Kent, Barrifber-at-Law, 1602- 1603," which 
was printed for the Camden Society (from the original MS. 
in the Britifli Mufeum) in 1868, and edited by the late Mr. 
John Bruce. The paffage exactly fbands thus, under date 
Oftober, 1602 (p. 61): — 

" Out of a Poeme called ^It is merry when Goffips meete! S. R. 

" Such a one is clarret proofe, /. e. a good wine-bibber. 

" There's many deale vpon the fcore for wyne. 
When they fhould pay forgett the Vintner's fyne. 

" A man whofe beard feemes fcard with fprites to have bin, 
And hath noe difference twixt his nofe and chin, 
But all his hayres haue got the falling ficknes, 
Whofe forefront lookes like jack an apes behind. 

" A goffips round, thats every on a cup." 

To the initials "S. R." Mr. Bruce notes: — " Thefe initials, 
inferted by a later hand, indicate ' Samuel Rowlands,' the 
author of this very popular little volume. The firfl edition 
bears the date of 1602, and had probably jufl been publifhed 
when it attra61:ed the attention of our diarift." 



Bibliographical Index. 

" A difcuffion in verfe between a Wife, a Widow and a Maid 
forms the body of Rowlands' ' Tis merry when Goffips meet : ' it 
is clever and humourous, but certainly not fo clever, though more 
broad and droll, than the debate between a Wife, a Widow and a 
Maid by Sir John Davys, in 'The Poetical Rhapfody,' which 
came out in the fame year, 1602, and which, perhaps, gave the 
author of ' Tis merry when Goffips meet ' the firfl hint for his more 
familiar, and lefs refined produdlion. The authorfliip of the laft 
has been given to three writers: — i. Simon Robfon, a clergyman, 
who began his career as early as 1585, whofe flyle is altogether 
different; 2. Nicholas Breton, whofe initials do not correfpond 
with thofe of, 3. Samuel Rowlands, which are attached to the 
tra6l, and to whom, we feel confident, it belongs. It is very true 
that at leafl three of Breton's pamphlets are mentioned above by 
the Apprentice, under the titles of Pafquil's ' Mad-cap,' ' Fools- 
cap,' and ' Melancholy,' to fay nothing of ' Moral Philofophy,' of 
which, under that name, as a work by Breton, we know nothing. 
If Breton had written ' Tis merry when Goffips meet,' he would 
hardly have thus puffed his own pieces. On the other hand, S. R. 
are the initials of Samuel Rowlands; and although he publiflied 
feveral humourous and fatirical tra(5ls relating to Knaves, we are 
not aware of the exiflence of any one called ' Tis merry when 
Knaves meet,' or 'Tis merry when Maltmen meet.' Befides, 
'Tis merry when Goffips meet' is much more in the flyle of 
Rowlands than of Breton ; fo that, on the whole, we feel no diffi- 
culty whatever in affigning the produdion to him. It enjoyed 
great popularity, went through feveral impreffions, and all but the 
firR have the name of Deane on the title-page, who was the pub- 
lifher of feveral other pamphlets by Rowlands. This circumflance 
in favour of his authorfhip feems never to have been taken into 
account. In fo much general favour was ' Tis merry when Goffips 
meet' even in 1625, that Ben Jonfon mentions it in the Indu6lion 
to his 'Staple of News:' 'They fay its merry zvhen Goffips meet: 
I hope our Play will be a merry one.' It had been reprinted in 
1619, and to that edition various fongs were added by the author 
to increafe its novelty. It may be worth while to note that the 


Bibliographical Index. 

impreffion of 1602 contains almofl the proverbial words of Shake- 
fpeare, Ttvo Gent, of Verona, A. v. fc. 2 : — 

' The old faying is, 
Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.' " 

Mr. J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 281-82. 

The Songs added to the edition of 16 19 will be found in- 
cluded with the Mifcellaneous Poems. It may be worth 
while to remark that the very curious " Conference between 
a Gentleman and a Prentice" " never afterwards appeared in 
print: the reafon for its omifTion being, probably, that in 
1605 the prevailing intereft regarding the tra6ls, even of 
1602, had fomewhat fubfided: on this very account it 
poffeffes the more attra6lion for modern readers." In the 
firft volume of the Shakefpeavc Society's Papers this "Con- 
ference between a Gentleman and a Prentice" is reproduced 
as a teftimony to the early rarity of the works of Robert 
Greene. Between 1602 and 1675 feven editions of this tra6l 
appeared. The third edition of 1609 was reprinted at the 
Chifwick Prefs in 1818. 

IV. Greenes Ghost Havnting Conie-Catchers. 
Wherein is fet downe, 

The Arte of Humouring. 

The Arte of carrying Stones. 

Will. St. Lift 

la. Foft. Law. 

Ned Bro. Catch, and 

Blacke Robins Kindneffe. 

with the conceits of Doctor Pinch-backe a notable Make- 
fhift. Ten times more pleafant then any thing yet 
publijited of this matter. No7i ad iniitandmn, fed ad 
euitanduni. LONDON, Printed for R. lackfon, and I. 


Bibliographical Index. 

North, and are to be fold in Fleetftreete, a little aboue 
the Conduit. 1602, 4to, 26 leaves. 

Black letter. Several copies known : one in the poffeffion 
of Mr. Henry Huth, and another in the Britifh Mufeum. 
It is entered as follows in the "Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 216): — 

"3, Septembris [1602] 

" Roger Jacklon John northe. — Entred for their copie vnder 

the handes of mafler Pasfeild and mafler Waterfon 

Warden. A booke called Greenes goojle \i.e. ghofl] 

hauntinge Conyecatchers . . . . . vj^ ' 

And again (vol. iv., p. 149): — 

" 16° Januarij 1625 [i.e., 1626] 

" Francis Williams. — Affigned ouer vnto him by miflris Jackfon 

wife of Roger Jackfon Deceafed, and by order of a full 

Court holden this Day, all her eftate in the Copies here after 

mencioned ....... xiiij^ 

[Thirty feparate articles of which the firll is] 
Greenes ghojl ha\i.i\nting Cun\ji\y catchers, j'' 

Under date " 29 Junij, 1630," this work, with many others, 
was affigned over by Francis Williams to Mafter Harrifon. 
—(Vol. iv., p. 237). 

A fecond edition appeared in 1626. The latter was re- 
printed by Mr. J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps in i860 (the im- 
preffion limited to twenty-fix copies) with the following 
Preface : — 

•' This tract has been attributed, but apparently on uncertain 
grounds, to Samuel Rowlands. It was firfl, printed in 1602, and 
Lowndes alfo records an edition of the date 1606, but I can find no 
other notice of the latter. The edition of 1602 is of fingular rarity. 


Bibliographical Index. 

and has not been acceffible to me. If we may believe the editor, 
S. il... 'this little pamphlet came by chance to my hands, adding 
fomewhat of mine owne knowledge, and upon very credible in- 
formation ;' but flatements of this kind are received with hefitation 
by thofe acquainted with the literature of the period. That any 
portion of it was written by Greene himfelf may well be queflioned ; 
but it may have been intended as a kind of fupplement to his firfl 
and fecond parts of Coneycatching, originally printed in 1591." 

V. Locke to it: FOR, He Stabbe ye. Imprinted at London 
by E. Allde for W. Ferbrand, and George Loftes, and 
are to be folde in Popes-head Allie. 

1604, 4to, 24 leaves. 

Two or three copies known : one in the poffeffion of the 
Earl of Ellefmere (the edges rough as it was iffued from the 
prefs), and another in the Bodleian Library. There were 
two iffues flightly differing. It is entered in the "Stationers' 
Regifters "' as follows (Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., 
p. 246):— 

•' 19'^- Novembris [1603] 
" William fferbrand. — Entered for his Copie vnder th[e hjandes 
of Mafter Hartvvell to the Wardens. A booke called Looke 
to it for lie Jlabbe yee vj"* " 

"It is an intereiling piece, full of allufions to contemporary 
manners and perfons.'"' — Mr. W. C. Hazlitt: Handbook, p. 521. 

" The author's name, as Avas moll common with him, is not 
to this fatirical and moral produdtion, only his well-known initials 
S. R. appended to an introdudlion."' — Mr. J. Payne Collier: 
Biblio. Account, vol. ii., p. 284. 

It was " Reprinted at the Beldornie Prefs, by J. N. Lydall 
for Edwd. V. Utterfon, in the year MDCCCXLI;" the im- 


Bibliographical Index. 

preffion being limited to fifteen copies. Mr. Utterfon ap- 
pended the following note : — 

" Samuel Rowlands, the Author of this rare tra6l, has exercifed, 
with confiderable truth and feme power, liis poetical lafh in the 
cafligation of the reigning vices and follies of the early part of the 
17th. century, — which indeed do not appear to have differed much 
from thofe of the prefent day. 

'• Owing to the return of the Englilh levies from the United 
Provinces after the truce was entered into between Spain, 
and her former fubje6ls, the introdudlion of the manners of 
a diforderly Soldiery into the peaceful Metropolis mufl have 
excited much diffatisfadlion, as well as alarm, amongfl the 
fober and induflrious Citizens of London. Hence the frequent 
threat of the ' Stab ^ by the Bully and the Rogue, fuggefled the 
title, and it may eafily be believed, increafed the popularity, of a 
Satire having fo llrong, and original a charadler. Rowlands refers 
occafionally to contemporary literature and circumflances. He 
alludes to Nafh's ' Pierce Pennyleffe,' and to R. Greene's ' Quip for 
an upflart Courtier,' and mentions Wolner the enormous Eater. 
His defcriptions alfo of the fafliions of that day in the drefs of 
both Sexes are curious and amufmg." 

VI. Hell's Broke Loose. London Printed by W. W. 
and are to be fold by G. Loftits in Popes-head Allie 
neare the Exchange. 1605, 4to, 24 leaves. 

Two copies are known: one in the poffeffion of Mr. Henry 
Huth, and the other in Mr. S. Chriftie-Miller's library. The 
firft named copy was fold in the fifth portion of the Rev. 
Thomas Corfer's fale (July, 1870) for £\6. 

It is thus entered in the "Stationers' Regifters" (Mr. 

Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 281): — 

" 29 Januarij [1605] 

" William white. — Entred for his copy vnder the handes of the 

\Vardens. a booke called Hell broke loofe. or the notorious life 

and Deferued Dcathe of J^ohn Levden A v of able Rebellious 

traitour againfl the Citie of Mutifler in Ger?nany. \\^ " 


Bibliographical Index. 

" An account of the life of John of Leyden. It has been faid 
that it is not by Rowlands, but by fomebody who ufurped his 
popular initials. It certainly has thofe initials at the foot of the 
argument, and it was publifhed by the flationer whom Rowlands 
chiefly employed." — Mr. W. C. Hazlitt: Handbook, p. 522. 

VII. A Theatre of delightful Recreation. London, Printed 
for A[rthur] Johnfon. 1605, 4to. 

In verfe. This piece is not known now to exift. — See 
Mr. W, C. Hazlitt's Handbook, p. 522. It was at one time 
in the poffeffion of the editor of Percy's Reliques, 18 12, who 
thus notes (vol. iii., p. 161) : — 

"■ A Theatre of delightful Recreation, Lond., printed for A. 
Johnfon, 1605, 4to (/^//^.f editor). This is a book of poems on 
fubjedls chiefly taken from the Old Tefl.ament." 

The title of this tract is probably more correftly given in 
the following entry in the "Stationers' Regiflers" (Mr. 
Arber's Traiifcript, vol. iii., p. 303) : — 

"8 octobris [1605] 

" Arthur Johnfon. — Entred for his copie vnder th[e h]andes of 
Mafler pasfeild and the Wardens A booke called. A 
Theatre of divine Recreation cs^c v\^ 

VIII. A Terrible Battell betweene the two confumers of the 
whole World: Time, and DEATH. By Saumell Row- 
lands. Printed at London for lohn Deane, and are to 
be fold at his fhop at Temple barre vnder 

[1606.'] 4to, 22 leaves. 

The only copy known is in the Bodleian Library. 


Bibliographical Index. 

In the " Stationers' Regifters " ( Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, 
vol. iii., p. 328) is the following entry: — 

" 16 Septembris [1606] 
"John Deane. — Entred for his copie vnder the handes of Mailer 
WILSON and the warden mafler whyte A booke called The 
bloodic battell behcn'xte Tvme and Dea thej / vj^ R " 

" We know of no piece by Rowlands more fcarce than this : we 
have only heard of one copy, and the precife date of that can not 
be afcertained, as the figures have been cut off by the binder : there 
is a large woodcut on the title-page, and it occupies fo much fpace 
that the imprint, followed by the date, is driven out of its place. 
We may guefs that it came out late in 1602; but there is nothing 
in the contents of the poem to fhow at what precife period it was 
written, beyond the mention of the plague which began in London 
in the autumn: we are fure, therefore, that the tra6t did not appear 
before that year, although Rowlands had commenced author in 
1598, if he really wrote 'The Betraying of Chrifl.' . . . The 
dedication prefents a novel point, for Rowlands tells Mr. George 
Ga}nvood that he does not know him, and does not expe6t any 
reward — ' my pen never was and never fhall be mercenary' — but 
that he has infcribed the Avork to him, becaufe Gaywood had 
been kind to a friend of his. This forms a fort of unprecedented 
claim to a dedication. . . . There is no great originality, 
but a good deal of clevernefs, in the poem, and, as in point of 
date, fo in point of fubje6l, it may be faid to hold a middle place 
between Rowlands' ferious and comic produdions." — Mr. J. Payne 
Collier: Bihlio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 276-79. 

IX. Six London Goffips. 1607. 

Not known now to exift. See Mr. W. C. Hazlitt's Hand- 
book, p. 522. 

Bibliographical Index. 


Athens I feeke for honeft men; 
But I fhal finde the God knows when. 
He fearch the Citie, where if I can fee 
One honed man; lie fhal goe with me. 

London Printed for Thomas Archer, and are to be 
folde at his Shop in Popes-head Pallace, neere the 
Royall-Exchange. 1607, 4to> 24 leaves. 

Partly in Black Letter, and partly in Roman. The only 
copy known is in the Bodleian Library. It is thus entered 
in the "Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, 
vol. iii., p. 334):— 

" v^° Decembris [1606] 
" Thomas Archer. — Entred for his Copie vnder the handes of 
Mafler Hartvvell & Mafter ^\vy\.& Warden A Booke 
called Diogenes Lanthornc y]^ R" 

And again (vol. iv., p. 164): — 

'•'4° Augufli 1626 
"Edward Brewfler Robert Birde. — Affigned ouer vnto them by 
Miflris Pavier and Confent of a full Court of Affiflantes all 
the eftate right title and Interefl which Mafler Thomas 
Pavier her late hufband had in the Copies here after men- 
cioned xxviij^/ 

[A long tranffer lifl follows, of which one of the articles is] 
" Diogenes Lanf/iomc." 

" It is one of the befl of the many pieces Samuel Rowlands left 
behind him." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., 
p. 294. 

It Avas at one time exceedingly popular, and between 1607 
and 1659 it went through no fewer than ten editions. 

Bibliographical Index. 

XI. Hv.MORs Looking Glafse. London. Imprinted 
by Ed. Allde for VVilliam Fere-hxdxvd. and are to be 
fold at his Shop in the popes-Jiead Pallace, right oner 
<^gainfl: the Tauerne-dore. 1608, 4to, 16 leaves. 

Two copies known: one in the Univerfity Library, 
Edinburgh, and the other in the Bodleian Library. There 
is no entry in the " Stationers' Regiffcers " licenfing this 
edition; but at a later date there is the following (Mr. 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 419): — 

'^12 Octobris [1609] 
" Thomas archer. — Affigned ouer vnto him from Helen ffayr- 
brand Widovve .... [two bookes] .... 
K.\\i^\xxiCi\)i\tx CQi^xQ oi humours lookwge glajjc . vj<^ 

whiche were william ftayrbrandes copies. 
PROVYDEu that this entrance fhalbe voyd yf any other man 
haue right to any of thefe copies." 

" Only two, or at moll three, copies of this comic production 
are extant, and little or nothing has been faid of it in any of our 
bibliographical mifcellanies. It is dedicated by Samuel Rowlands, 
in his own name at length, 'to his verie loving Friend Mailer 
George Lee,' and confifts of what the author denominates Epi- 
grams." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., p. 287. 

It was reprinted by Mr. Collier in his Yelloiv Series of 
" Mifcellaneous Tra6ls," Temp, Eliz. and Jac. i. (No. 10), 
and in the Introdu6lion he remarked: — 

" The fmall publication Ave have here reproduced is at leall of 
average merit, and it is one of the very rareft of its clafs: there 
are but two, or, at the utmofl, three, extant copies of it. It is 
full of amufmg illullrations of the manners and opinions of the 

Bibliographical Index. 

XII. Doctor Merrie-man: Or, Nothing but Mirth. 
Written by S. R. At London, Printed for lohn 
Deane, and are to [be] fold at his Shoppe at Temple- 
barre vnder the gate. 1609, 4to, 12 leaves. 

As no clue could be got to the firft edition of 1607, the 
prefent reprint has been made from the fecond edition of 
1609, the original of which is in the poffeffion of Mr. Henry 
Huth, and was fold in the fifth portion of the Rev. Thomas 
Corfer's fale in July, 1870, for £21 los. The licence for the 
firft edition is thus entered in the " Stationers' Regiflers " 
(Mr. Arber's Tranfcripty \o\. iii., p. 362) : — 

" 24 o(5tobris [1607] 

"John Ueane. — Entred for his copie vnder th[e hjandes of 
Th[e] Avardens A booke called. DoSlor Merry Man his 
7nedecmes agaiiijl Melancholy humours . . v]^' 

It has been thus defcribed : — 

" This is the firfl edition (and effentially different from thofe 
which followed it) of an extremely popular work of drollery, and 
no other copy of fo early a year is known. The fubfequent 
editions of 1609, 1618, 1623, 1631, and 1637, together with one 
reprint, if not more, without date, are all called on the title-page 
' Do6lor Merry-man, or Nothing but Mirth.' They alfo omit five 
pages of preliminary, humorous, and fatirical verfes; and the tale 
which, in the firft edition, is laft in the volume, is placed fecond 
in the other impreffions. 

" After the title the author addreffes 'Honefl Gentlemen' in a erfe, 
recommending the infalUble prefcriptions of three phyficians. Dr. 
Diet, Dr. Quiet, and Dr. Merryman: next, Rowlands inferts a 
ftiort poem, entitled 'Flatteries Fawne,' followed by the ufual 
heading of ' Do6lor Merryman,' and a fatirical produ(5lion of two 


Bibliographical Index. 

pages. None of thefe are in the copies of 1609, 16 18, &c. and 
the lall may be quoted as a fair faraple of the author's vein : — 

" Hypocrifie was kind, and us'd me well 
vSo long as I had any land to fell. 
Many a ' God fave you, loving Sir,' I had 
' For your good health I am exceeding glad. 
What is the caufe you are a ftranger growne? 
The meate doth me no good I eate alone 
Without your company: pray, let me have it: 
Of all the kindnefle in the world I crave it. 
When will you ride? My gelding's your.s to ufe. 
The choyfefl chamber that I have come chufe, 
And lodge with me. Commaund what ere is mine. 
Shall we t\vo part without a quart of wine? 
That were a wonder: give it, fure, I will; 
Your prefence glads me, I do wi(h it flill." 
This ufage I had daylie at his hand, 
Till he had got an intrefl in my land ; 
And then I try'd his welcomes in my \\-ant 
To be, ' Sir, I affure you cojme is fcant. 
I would do fomewhat for acquaintance fake, 
If you but fome fecurity could make; 
But, fure, to waft my wealth I know not how 
Were folly. What you have bin is not now. 
I wifli you were the man I knew you late: 
Faith, I am foiy y'are in this eftate. 
You fhould have thought upon this thing before : 
Patience is all; and I can fay no more. 
My bufmefs now doth haften nie away; 
I would fain drink with you but cannot flay. 
Urgent occafions force me take my leave. 
I wifli you well, and fo I pray conceive.'" 

" The body of the tract confifls of a medley of droll tales and 
fatirical obfervations: few of the flories are original, and fome of 
them have gone through mod of the languages of Europe; as that 
where one man gave advice to another how to avoid falling when 
cUmbing, by not making more hafle down than up. This forms 
the point of an epigram in French, Spanifh, and ItaUau." — Mr. J. 
Payne Collier: Biblio. Account^ vol. ii., p. 286. 


Bibliographical Index. 

In a "Catalogue of books fold by J. Blare on London Bridge," 
among others the following is priced two-pence : — 

•' Doclor Merryman or Nothing but Mirth. Being a Polie of 
pleafant Poems and Witty Jefls. Fitted for the recreation and 
paflime of youth. Written by S[amuel] R[owlands]. 4to." — Mr. 
J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., p. 241. 

XIII. A whole crew of kind Gofsips, all met to be merry. 
LONDON, Printed for lohn Deane, and are to be fold 
at his Jlwp vnder Temblebarre. 1609, 4to, 18 leaves. 

The only known copy is in the Bodleian Library. 
In the Academy for September 29th, 1877, Mr. F. J. FUR- 
NIVALL points out a Shakefpearian allufion in this tra6l on 

P- 33:— 

"The chiefefl Art I haue I will bellow, 
About a worke cald taming of the Shrow." 

" For the fake of diflinclnefs we will briefly defcribe the three 
impreffions we have ufed [1609, 1613, and 1663], noticing the 
differences between them. At the back of the title-page of the 
copy of 1609 is an addrefs 'To the Maids of London,' figned 
S. R., followed by— 

' Their Husbands Refolution. 
' With patience we will heare our owne difgraces, 
Then proue the lying hufwiues to their faces : 
Proceed good tailing Goffips, do not fpare, 
And Maids beare witneffe what kind wiues thefe are.' 

On the next page is an addrefs to men, beginning — 

' My Maifters that are married looke about;' 

And which ought to end — 

' And turne her to her tale, which thus goes on.' 

However, it does not fo conclude becaufe, by a grofs blunder, the 
fpeech of 'the firfl GolTip' is made part of the addrefs to men. 


Bibliographical Index. 

This error only exifts in the firfl impreflion of 1609, for in that of 
1613 the fpeech of the firfl Goflip (fo headed) begins at the lines, — 

' Kind Gentlewomen, though I fport and jeft, 
I have fmall caufe to do it, I proteft. ' 

The accufations of the fecond, third, fourth, fifth and fixth Goffip 
come in regular fucceffion, and after them we have what is 

headed — 

' Sixe Husbands. 

' Pray, Maifters, give us leave a while, 
Now you have heard our wives : 
Wee'le overthrow them, horfe and foote, 
Or elfe wee'le loofe our lives.' 

' Six honefl Husbands give their wives the lye,' as we are politely 
told, in the fubfequent order: — 

' The firfl accufed by his wife to bee miferable. 
The fecond charged by his wife to croffe her in her humour. 
The third charged by his wife to bee hard and cruell. 
The fourth complained on by his wife to be a common Gamefler. 
The fift complained on by his wife to be a common Drunkard. 
The fixt complained on by his wife to be unconftant to her and haunt 
Whores. ' 

With thefe fpeeches by the Husbands in reply (how they overhear 
the accufations, and to whom they addrefs their anfwers does not 
diflin6lly appear) the tra(5l in the 4to of 1609 terminates." — Mr. 
J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 289-90. 

XIV. The Knave of Clubbes. Printed at London for 
W. Ferebrand, and are to be fold at his Jhop in Popes- 
head Pallace. 1609, 4^0, 24 leaves. 

It was originally entered in the " Stationers' Regifters " 
(Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 171): — 

"2. Septembris [1600] 

" Mafler Burbye. — Entred for his copye vnder the handes of 

mailer vvcars and the Wardens, A booke called A 

merryemeetinge: Ort''ysmet\f\y When knaues meete: Sonnettes 

Compyled by the famous ffraternities of knaucs . . vj^" 


Bibliographical Index. 

Another entry (vol. iii., pp. 420-21) is as follows: — 

"16. Oaobris [1609] 
"Mafler Welby. — Affigned over vnto hym by miflres Burby in 
full Court [&c. 38 books, of which one is] 33. yt is merry 
whefi knaites mete''' 

No edition earlier than that of 1609 is known to exift: a 
copy is in the poffeffion of Mr. Henry Huth. 

'• The oldeft exemplar known of his [Rowlands'] ' Knave of 
Clubbs/ is in 1609; but it is certain that it had appeared in or 
before 1600, under the title of 'Tis merry when Knaves meet' 
[fee ' A conference betweene a Gentleman and a Prentice ' in 
Rowlands' * Tis Merrie when Goflips meete,' 1602], becaufe in 
that year a public order was iffued for burning that book, the 
name of which forms the fecond title to the ' Knave of Clubbs :' 
being forbidden as ' Tis merry when Knaves meet,' Rowlands 
altered the title, and printed the tra(5t as the ' Knave of Clubbs.' 
This, as far as exifling evidence goes, was in 1609, and the feries 
was completed (if it can be called complete without the ' Payre of 
Spy-Knaves,' to which we would aflign the date of 16 13 [fee 
below]) by 161 2, in which year both the ' Knave of Hearts' and 
' Knaves of Spades and Diamonds ' made their appearance. 
However, each of them was popular and often reprinted, and it is 
impoffible, at this diflance of time, to fpeak with certainty as to 
the numbers or dates of editions." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: 
Biblio. Account, vol. ii., p. 297. 

" The firfl, ' The Knave of Clubbs, Tis merry when Knaves 
meete,' upon its appearance, in 1600, gave fuch offence, on 
account of the fe verity of its fatire, and the obvioufnefs of its 
allufions, that an order was made that it fhould be burnt, firfl 
publicly, and afterwards in the Hall Kitchen of the Stationers' 
Company." — [See above, under " Letting of Humors Blood 
in the Head-vaine," 1600.] — Dr. E. F. Rimbault: Introdu6lion to 
" The Four Knaves :" a Series of Satirical Tra6ts by Samuel 
Rowlands, reprinted for the Percy Society, 1843. 


Bibliographical Index. 

" This appears to have been the firft of the three rare tradls of 
Samuel Rowlands, publiflied by him under the title of *■' Knaiies.^^ 

" It is in fadl, a poetical Jefl Book, to which any other title would 
have been almoU equally applicable. Notwithftanding, however, 
that many of his Jokes are flale and vapid, we owe much of our 
knowledge of the morals and manners of his times, to Rowlands, 
whofe hints and allufions have perpetuated many little circum- 
flances illuflrative of the period in which he wrote. Such is the 
fa 61 which is to be gleaned from this volume, that Allen [Edward 
Alleyn] played Fauflus in Marlowe's Tragedy; and we alfo learn 
from it, the coflume which he adopted. Wolner the glutton is 
alluded to here, as well as in Rowlands' Satire of ' Looke to it for 
He Stabbe ye.' 

" The late Mr. Heber purchafed the three tracts of * Knaue of 
Clubbs,' ' Knaue of Harts,' and ' More Knaues yet,' bound in one 
volume, for ;;^35 3s., at the fale of Mr. Bindley's coUedlion." — 
Mr. E. V. Utterson: Note to "The Knave of Clubbs. Tis 
merry when Knaues meete," 161 1. '-Reprinted at the Beldornie 
Prefs, by G. E. Palmer, for Edwd. V. Utterfon, in the year 


The edition of 1611 was reprinted by Mr. E. V. Utterfon in 
1 84 1, and by the Percy Society in 1843; the impreflion of 
the former being limited to fixteen copies. 

XV. Martin Mark-All, Beadle of Bridewell; His 
defence and Anfwere to the Belman of LONDON, 
Difcouering the long-concealed Originall and Regiment 
of Rogues, when they firft began to take head, and 
how they haue fucceeded one the other fucceffiuely 
vnto the fixe and twentieth yeare of King Henry the 
eight, gathered out of the Chronicle of Crackeropes, and 
(as they terme it) the Legend of LossELS. By S. R. 
Oderuiit peccarc bo7ii virtutis amore, 
Oder tint peccare mail forviidinc pccnce. 
London Printed for ToJin Budge and Richard Bonian. 

1 610, 4to, 30 leaves. 


Bibliographical Index. 

Black Letter. Six copies are known to exift : two in the 
Britifh Mufeum ; one in the Bodleian Library (it is, how- 
ever, deficient of Sheet B or 4 leaves); the fourth is in the 
poffeffion of Mr. Alexander Young of Glafgow (a very fine 
copy, formerly in the Corfer collection, and fubfequently 
priced in Meffrs. Ellis & White's Catalogue, a few years ago, 
£21); the fifth, in the Guildhall Library, London, wants the 
laft leaf; and the fixth was fold at the fale of the Rev. C. H. 
Craufurd's books on July 13, 1876. 

The following entry appears in the " Stationers' Regifters " 
(Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 430): — 

<■' ^jmo Martij [1610] 

"John Budge. Rychard Bonion. — Entred for their Copy vnder 

th[e h]andes of mafler John Willson and mailer Waterfon 

warden A booke called, 'Martyn Marke all his defence' 

beinge an anfwere to ''the bellman of London' vj^/." 

" Samuel Rowlands, in his ' Martin Mark-all Beadle of Bride- 
well,' 1 6 10, accufes the unknown author of the ' Belman of London' 
of flealing from Harman's book [' A Caueat or warening for 
Common Curfetors,' &c., 1573; reprinted by Benfley in 18 14, and 
again by the Early EngliJJi Text Society in 1869J. 'At lafl up 
ftarts an old Cacodemicall Academicke with his frize bonnet, and 
gives them al to know that this invedlive was fet foorth, made and 
printed above fortie yeeres agoe, and being then called a Caveat 
for Curfitors is now newly printed and termed the Belman of 
London.' This expofure roufed the ire of Dekker in his ' Lan- 
thorne and Candle-light,' but he made no sufficient reply." — Mr. 
J. Payne Collier : Biblio. Account, vol. i., p. 205. 

"From an addrefs 'To my owne Nation,' it is evident that 
Samuel Rowlands' ' Martin Mark -all the Beadle of Bridewell,' 
though dated 1610, had been publifhed before 'Lanthorne and 
Candle-light ' [1609]. ' You fhall know him (fays Dekker, fpeaking 
of a rival author whom he calls 'a Ufurper,') by his habiUments, 


Bibliographical Index. 

for (by the furniture he weares) hee will bee taken for a Beadle of 
Bi-idcivell! No earlier impreffion than 1610 is, however, known 
of Rowlands' produ6lion." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Ac- 
count, vol. i., p. 208. 

XVI. The Knave of Harts. Haile Fellow, well met. 
London; Printed by T. S. and are to be folde by 
George Loftus, at his fhop vnder 6". Sep2(lchers-Ch.\iYQ\\. 

1612, 4to, 24 leaves. 

The only known copy is in the Bodleian Library. It is 
thus entered in the " Stationers' Regiflers" (Mr. Arber's 
Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 484): — 

"Ultimo ApriHs [1612] 
"Thomas Snodham. — Entred for his copy vnder th' [h]andes of 
mailer ffrancis Smithe and Th' wardens, A booke called, 
The knaue of hartes or hayle feltowe weUvtett . vj«*" 

And again (vol. iv., p. 152): — 

"23° ffebruarij 1625 [ie. 1626] 
" Mafler Stanfby. — Affigned ouer vnto him by vertue of a note 
vnder the hand of Miflris Snodham fliewed vnto a Court 
holden this Daye all her eftate in the faid Copies following 
viz'-/ xxx* 

[A long tranffer lift, of which one of the articles is] 
" T/ie Knatie of Harts r 

•' In accordance with a promife given at the end of ' The Knave 
of Clubbs,' Rowlands went on with his feries of Knaves, and in 
1 6 1 2 gave to the world ' The Knave of Harts, Haile Fellowe, 
well met.' That this was the fecond of the feries, we have fufficient 
evidence in the following lines from the addrefs of ' The Knave of 
Harts to his three Brethren Knaves:' — 

' The Knave of Clubs hath fiift begunne, 
And I am 7text, now he hath done. 


Bibliographical Index. 

His tale of Knaves hath thrice beene tolde, 
And he is printed, bought, and folde, 
Which made me hafte againe to preffe. 
Left Dimond fhould my place poffeffe. ' 

The expreffion in the third line, that the Knave of Clubs hath 
thrice told his tale, alludes to the tra<5l having paffed through three 
editions; viz., the firfl in 1600, the fecond in 1609, and that from 
which our reprint is made, in 161 1." — Dr. E. F. Rimbault: Intro- 
du6lion to "The Four Knaves," Percy Society, 1843. 

" This was one of a numerous family of fatirical works written 
by Samuel Rowlands, an author whofe poetical powers were not 
equal to his caullic humour and biting cenfure. He appears to 
have vifited the haunts of profligacy and vice in fearch of fubjedls 
for his farcaflic Mufe, and the refult of fuch enquiries, communi- 
cated in his various pieces, is produdlive of amufement as well as 
inflru6lion to modern readers. The follies and vices of his day 
were painted with a coarfe but vigorous pencil; his fketches were 
the iffue of flrong and accurate obfervation; and our knowledge 
of the domeflic ufages, the opinions, and ever-varying fafliions of 
the times of Elizabeth and the firfl James is confequently much 
enlarged from the fources which Rowlands has opened to our view. 

" All his produ6lions are now become very rare, although moft 
of them went through repeated editions. AmongH other works, 
moflly chara6lerifed by quaint titles, he publifhed three feveral 
volumes of ' Knaves,' viz. — ' The Knave of Harts,' ' The Knave 
of Clubs,' and 'More Knaves Yet' Ritfon in the lift which he 
has given of Rowlands' publications (a lift fomewhat increafed by 
later enquiry) has noticed only one of this feries, the ' Knave of 
Clubs ' ; ftronger evidence probably of the rarity of the works fo 
omitted, than of the inaccuracy of that faftidious critic. 

" There are copies of the three feveral volumes of ' Knaves' 
in the Malone CoUedlion in the Bodleian Library; in the Britifh 
Mufeum are the Knaves of Harts and Clubs; and the three 
works bound together were in Mr. Heber's colledlion, having 
been purchafed by him at Mr. Bindley's fale. 


Bibliographical Index. 

" The late Sir Walter Scott gave to the world, in the year 1814, 
a very limited edition of one of Rowlands' fatirical effufions, 
entitled ' The letting of Humor's Blood in the head-vaine, &c., 
London, 161 1,' to which an advertifement was prefixed, from 
which the following paffage is extracted : ' The humorous defcrip- 
tions of loiu life exhibited in his fatires are more precious to Anti- 
quaries than more grave works, a?id thofe who make the manners of 
Shakefpeare's age ihefubjeB of their flu dy may better f pare a better 
author than Samuel Rowlands' 

" Of Rowlands himfelf, little or nothing beyond what appears 
occafionally in his works, has been hitherto difcovered by modern 
biographers." — Mr. E. V. Utterson: Note to " Knave of Harts," 
1613. "Reprinted at the Beldornie Prefs, by George Butler, for 
Edwd. V, Utterfon, in the year mdcccxl." 

The fecond edition of 161 3 was reprinted by Mr. E. V. 
Utterfon in 1840 (the impreffion limited to fifteen copies), 
and by the Percy Society in 1843. 

XVII. More Knaues yet.^ The Knaues of Spades and 
Diamonds. LONDON Printed for lolm Tap, dwelling 
at Saint Magnus. [161 3.''] 4to, 22 leaves. 

The only known copy is in the Bodleian Library. 
It is entered as follows in the "Stationers' Regifters" 
(Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 534): — 

"27 Odlobris 16 13 
" John Tapp. — Entred for his Coppie vnder the handes of mafler 
John Taverner and the wardens a booke called The 
knaues of Diamondes and fpadcs. . . . v']'^" 

And again (vol. iv., pp. 258-9 and 312): — 

" i^ Augufli 1631. 

" Jofeph Hurlocke. — Affigned ouer vnto him by Elizabeth Tapp 

late the wife of John Tapp deceafed and by order of a full 

Court all that her Eftate right title and interefl in the 

Coppies hereafter mencioned vij^ 

[fourteen books, of which 14] The Knaues of Diamonds and Spades. 


Bibliographical Index. 

'• 1 6 Januarij 1633. [/.c. 1634] 
"George Hurlocke. — Affigned ouer vnto him [&c. fourteen 
books of which the fourteenth is] The Knaves of Di'amojids 
and Spades.^' 

" The lall of the feries of Rowlands' Knaves was ' More Knaves 
yet? The Knaves of Spades and Diamonds.' It was printed 
without date; but in all probability (from allufions to Ward and 
Danfikar, tAvo famous pirates, whofe flory was then popular) about 
the fame period as the preceding tra6l." — Dr. E. F. Rlmbault: 
Introdu6tion to "The Four Knaves," Pe?ry Society, 1843. 

"This is the third of S. Rowlands' poetical tradls, pubhflied 
under the quaint title of ' Knaues &c.' and of which the original 
is at lead equally fcarce with his other volumes. As has before 
been remarked, his object feems generally to have been, to invite 
the public notice by the Angularity of his title, which frequently 
has little or no connexion with the work itfelf Such is the cafe 
with the prefent volume, which poffeffes little poetical merit, but 
occafionally illuflrates the morals and manners of the author's 
Age." — Mr. E. V. Utterson: Note to "More Knaues Yet? The 
Knaues of Spades and Diamonds." " Reprinted at the Bel- 
dornie Prefs, by G. E. Palmer, for Edwd. V, Utterfon, in the year 


Reprinted by Mr. E. V. Utterfon in 1841 (the impreffion 
limited to fixteen copies), and by the Percy Society in 

XVIII. Sir Thomas Overbury, or The Poyfoned Knights 
Complaint. Imprmted at London for John White. 


A broadfide, of which the only known copy is in the 
Colleftion of the Society of Antiquaries, London. It will be 
found printed with the Mifcellaneous Poems. 


Bibliographical Index. 

XIX. A FOOLES Bolt is foone fhott. Imprinted at London 
for George Loft us, and are to be fold at the figne of 
the White Horfe at the Steps of the North doore of 
P miles. 1 6 14, 4to, 20 leaves. 

The only known copy is in the Capel Colle6lion, Trinity 
College, Cambridge. 

It is thus entered in the " Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. 
Arber's Traufcript, vol. iii., p. 545): — 

"quarto Maij 16 14 
" Andrew. Manfell. — Entred for his Coppie vnder the handes 
of mafler Tavernour and mafler ffeild warden a booke 
called A fooles holt is foone Jliot vj^ " 

XX. THE Melancholie Knight. By S. R. H Imprinted at 
London by R. B. and are to be fold by George Loft us, 
in Bifhops-gate ftreete, neerc the Angell. 

161 5, 4to, 22 leaves. 

The only known copy is in the Bodleian Library. It is 
thus entered in the " Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. Arber'S 
Trajifcript, vol. iii., p. 558): — 

"2° Decembris 1614 

"John Beale. — Entred for his Coppie vnder the handes of 
mafler Taverxour and mailer warden Adames a booke 
called The Malencholy knight by Samuell Rowlands vjd " 

" S. Rowlands in his various fatirical pieces feems generally 
anxious to claim the public attention by an attra6live title. Hence 
'The Melancholy Knight' at the head of this litde effufion. 
' Your true melancholy breeds your perfe(ft fine wit, Sir,' fays 
Mafler Matthew in Ben Jonfon's admirable comedy of Every 
Man in his Humour, which according to Whalley, was 'a fneer 


Bibliographical Index. 

upon the fantaflic behaviour of the Gallants hi that day, who 
afifecfled to appear melancholy, and abflradled from common 

" Few minor poets of the period in which he wrote poffeffed a 
more fluent vein, as adapted to the nature of his fubje6l, than our 
author; fatire was his objedl, and he follows the chafe, fometimes 
attacking general vices, fometimes purfuing individual follies, 
with confiderable fuccefs, in a llrain of forcible, though rough 
humour. Many of his allufions are curious and amufing; and 
fome of his ideas appear to have furnifhed hints to modern writers 
(the firfl five or fix lines at page 4 [p. 10], appear to have been 
concentrated by Goldfmith, in that beautiful paffage, 

* Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine.') 

His occafional attempts at wit are not without point, and his 
references to old ballads, and parodies on Tales of Chivalry, then 
rapidly falling into negle6l and ridicule, attell his acquaintance 
with that once fafcinating fludy. This probably fuggefled his 
Traveflie of the romance of Guy, Earl of ^^^arwick, which went 
through feveral editions in the 17th century. 

"The prefent work is extremely rare, and is not one of thofe 
enumerated in Ritfon's lifl of Rowlands' pieces." — Mr. E. V. Utter- 
son : Note to -'The Melanchohe Knight" "Reprinted at the 
Beldornie Prefs, by George Butler, for Edwd. V. Utterfon, in the 
year mdcccxli." 

" The ludicroufly extravagant vein in which the writers of the 
old romances were burlefqued in an anonymous book called The 
Heroicall Adventures of the Knight of the Sea, 1600, 4to (before 
Cervantes had pubhfhed his great work), by Rowlands in his ballad 
of Sir Eglamore, inferted in The Melanchohe Knight, 1615, 4to; 
and again, by Samuel Holland in his Don Lara Del Fogo, 1656. 
But Chaucer's Rime of Sir Thopas is the firfl thing of this kind.'' 
— Warton's Hifl. of EngliJJi Poetry, edit. W. C. Hazlitt, 1871, 
vol. iii., p. 360. 


Bibliographical Index. 

The impreffion of Mr. Utterfon's reprint was limited to 
fixteen copies. 

XXI. The Bride. [1617?] 

Nothing is known of this piece but what is to be found in 
the following entry from the " Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 609) : — 

" 22" Maij 1617 
" Mafler Pauier. — Entred for his Copie vnder the handes of 
mafler Tauernor and both the wardens, A Poeme intituled 
The Bride, written by Samuell Rowlande vj^-" 

XXII. A Sacred Memorie of THE MIRACLES 
wrought by our Lord and Sauiour lefus CJiriJi. Written 
by Sa^nuel Rozvlands. lOHN. 10: If you belecue not 
Mee, beleeue the works that I doe. LONDON, Im- 
printed by Bernard Alfop, and are to be fold at his 
houfe by Saint Annes Church neere Alderfgate. 

16 1 8, 4to, 26 leaves. 

Four copies known: one in the poffefTion of Mr. Henry 
Huth; another in the library of Mr. S. Chriftie-Miller; the 
third in the Bodleian Library; and the fourth in the 
Britifh Mufeum. 

It is entered in the "Stationers' Regifters" (Mr. Arber's 
Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 624) as follows: — 

" 16^ Aprilis 1618: 

" Bernard Alfope. — Entred for his Copie vnder the handes of 

Mafler San ford and Mafler Swinhow warden, A Booke 

Called A Sacred memory of the miracles 7vrought by our Lord 

and fauiour Jesus Christ . . . . vj''" 


Bibliographical Index. 

XXIII. The Night-Raven. By S. R. 

All thofe whofe deeeds doejhjin the Light, 
Are my companions in the Night. 
LONDON, Printed by G: Eld for lohn Deane and 
Thomas Baily. 1620, 4to, 18 leaves. 

Two perfe6l copies known : one in the poffeffion of the Earl 
of Ellefmere, and the other in the Bodleian Library. It is 
thus entered in the " Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. Arber's 
Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 657): — 

" 18° Septembris 16 19 

" Thomas Bayley John Deane. — Entred for their copie vnder 

the handes of Mafler Dodlor Goade, and Mafler Jaggard 

warden A booke Called, The Night rauen made by 

S. R[0WLANDS]. vj^" 

" The author calls this tradl ' The Night Raven/ becaufe he 
profeffes to difclofe fcenes, and to defcribe charadters, chiefly 
obferved in London after dark — 

' Thofe evil adlions that avoyde the Sunne 
And by the light of day are never done ' — 

but he does not keep flri6lly to his purpofe. It was popular, and, 
having been firfl publiflied, as far as we know, in 1618, it was 
reprinted in 1620, and 1634, each time with a woodcut of a raven 
on the title-page. The prefent is, therefore, the fecond edition. 
[See entry from " Stationers' Regifters " already quoted.] Some 
of the humorous pieces of which it is compofed muft have 
been written long before they were publifhed, as Avhere the author 
makes a young ' Night Swaggerer ' fay : — 

' Then third degree of Gentleman I clayme 
Is my profeffion of a Souldiers name. 
Looke but your Chronicle for eighty eight, 
And turn to Tilbury you have me ftraight.' 

Referring of courfe to the camp at Tilbury in 1588, which was 
thirty years before the tradl was firft printed. On the other hand, 


Bibliographical Index. 

foine poems are of confiderably later date, as Mrs. Turner's yellow 
flarch is fpoken of in one of them. Others are mere jefls, and 
one or two of them, fuch as ' The Tragedy of Smug the Smith,' 
from the Italian : on fign. D4b, Chaucer furniflies a fliort produc- 
tion The tra6l feems to have been haflily 

got up and publiflied, to fupply fome temporaiy neceflity on the 
part of the writer.'' — INIr. J. Payne Collier : Biblio. Account, 
vol. ii.,, p. ::94. 

" The Night-Raven " was " Reprinted at the Beldornie 
Prefs, by G. E. Palmer, for Edwd. V. Utterfon, in the year 
MDCCCXLI." Mr. Utterfon appended to his reprint (limited 
to fixteen copies) the following note: — 

" This is one of Samuel Rowlands' produdlions, which, in fpite 
of occafional indelicacy of language, and coarfenefs of allufion, 
poffeffes fome claims on our attention from its illullration of con- 
temporary manners, and reference to ancient literature. 

" Ritfon mentions it in his lift of Rowlands' produ(5lions in the 
Bibliographica Poetica, but fpeaks only of the edition of 1618. 
Common enough as fuch a work probably once was, it is now 
become very rare.'' 

XXIV. A Payre of Spy-Knaves, [1620!"] 4to, 12 leaves. 

Only known to exifl in a unique fragment, in the 
poffeffion of Mr. J. Payne Collier, F.S.A. The following- 
entry is from the "Stationers' Regifters" (Mr. Arber's 
T7-anfcript, vol. iii., p. 660): — 

"6^ Decembris 161 9 
"Phillip Birch. — Entred for his copie vnder the handes of 
]\iafter Tauernor, and Mafter Jaggard warden A booke 
Called A Payre of Spy knanes written by Samuell Row- 
lands . . . . . . . vj^ ' 


Bibliographical Index. 

In a fubfequent entry (vol. iv., p. 91) this piece is errone- 
oufly affigned to Samuel Rowley: — 

" 7° ffebruarij [1623] 
"Roberte Birde. — Affigned ouer vnto him by Phillip Birch 
with the Confent of Mafter Pavier warden theis two Copies 

following xijd 

vizf. Kfennon called Diues and Lazarus, by R. F. 
A Paire of Spy knaues. by Samuel Rowley 

'•' This is the fequel to Rowlands' ' Knave of Clubs,' ' Knave of 
Hearts,' and 'Knaves of Spades and Diamonds:' unfortunately it 
is only a fragment, beginning with an addrefs 'To the World's 
BHnde Judgement' on fign. A 3, and ending with an 'Epigram' 
on fign. D 3, — in the whole 12 leaves. No other copy, perfe6t 
or imperfe6l, has ever been heard of, the initials of the writer, 
Samuel Rowlands, (who in the fame way claimed the authorfhip 
of the refl of the hiaviJJi pieces) being at the end of the . . . 
lines to the Reader. ... On the whole the ' Payre of Spy- 
knaves ' (fuch is the running title, in default of a title-page) may 
be held fuperior to any of the other three produdlions by the 
fame author under correfponding names. We apprehend that it 
was the lafl of the feries, but the prolific author, far from having 
run himfelf dry, is here even pleafanter, more lively, more fatirical, 
and even more informing, as to manners and opinions in his day, 
than in his earlier performances. . . . Some of the poems are 
a little coarfe but highly humorous, particularly one entitled 'As 
wife as John of Goteham's Calfe; or This fellow brought his 
Hogges to a faire Market.' Not a few of the titles are droll and 
defcriptive, as ' Courteous complements betweene a Traveller and a 
Hangman,' 'A Roaring Boyes Defcription,' 'A Marriage Mer- 
chant,' &c. Several of them are in flo\ving pleafant rhyme, as for 
inflance: — 

' The boording of the Alehoufe Ship, fought fo 
Till Smug, the Smith, could neither ftand nor goe. ' 


Bibliographical Index. 

' Inftin<5lions given to a Countiey Clowne 
To take Tobacco when he comes to Towne.' 

' Such Oafl fuch ghefl, the Proverbe fayes : 
111 Servants chufe bad Mafters wayes.' 

Our copy of this curiofity feems to have been refcued (poflibly 
from the flames) in fheets, which are uncut and only three in 
number." — Mr. J. Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 

XXV. Good Newes and Bad Newes. By 5. R. 
London, Printed for Henry Bell, and are to be fold at 
his Shop within the Hofpitall gate in Smith-field. 

1622, 4to, 23 leaves. 

Three copies known : two in the Bodleian Library, and 
the third in the poffeffion of the Earl of Ellefmere. 

" This is little more that a jefl-book in verfe, and it is one of 
the rarefl of Rowlands' later pieces, who acknowledges it by his 
initials on the title-page, and at the end of an addrefs of fixteen 
lines ' to the Reader.' On the title-page is a woodcut of a Lon- 
doner and a countryman (from Robert Greene's tradl) in con- 

verfation The words ' Good Newes ' and • Bad Newes ' 

are placed at the heads of different pages, without much application 
to the flory related; and this is carried through feventeen leaves, 
when we arrive at nine pages of Epigrams, as they are called, 
rather for variety of appellation than for any marked difference in 
the flyle or fubje6ls. The enumeration of the fights of London in 
1622, which Hodge comes to town to vifit, is amufmg." — Mr. J. 
Payne Collier: Biblio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 295-296. 

" Although S. Rowlands appears to have commenced his poetical 
labours in a ferious flrain, the bent of his inclination led him, more 
efpecially in his later years, to fubjecSls of merriment and fatire. 
Such is the work which is here reprinted, one of his numerous 
rhyming jefl. Books, all of which are now become very rare. Rit- 


Bibliographical Index. 

fon includes ' Good newes and bad newes ' in his enumeration of 
S. Rowlands' productions. 

" The wood-cut in the title-page of the original work, is the fame 
as that ufed in Greene's ' Quip for an upflart Courtier or a quaint 
difpute between Velvet breeches and Cloth breeches. Printed for 
G. P. 1620.'"— Mr. E. V. Utterson. 

" Good Newes and Bad Newes " was " Reprinted at the 
Beldornie Prefs, by G. E. Palmer, for Edwd. V, Utterfon, in 
the year MDCCCXLI." (the impreffion limited to fixteen 
copies); and by Mr. J. Payne Collier in his Yellow Series 
of Mifcellaneous Tra6ls, Temp. Eliz. & Jac. I. (the impref- 
fion limited to fifty copies). 

XXVI. Heavens Glory, Seeke It. Earts Vanitie, 
Flye It. Hells Horror, Fere It. LONDON', 
printed for MicJiaell Sparke. A" . 

1628, fm. 8vo, 141 leaves. 

Two copies known : one in Dulwich College, London, and 
the other in the Bodleian Library. The latter copy is, 
however, deficient of the folding plate facing p. 133. The 
following entry appears in the " Stationers' Regifters " (Mr. 
Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iv., p. 192): — 

10 Januarij 1627 \i.e. 1628]. 
" Michael Sparkes. — Affigned ouer vnto him by Adam Iflip All 
the eflate right title and Interefl which he hath in the 
Copie hereafter mencioned viz Heavens glorye feeke it, 
Earthes vanity e flye it. Hells horror feare it by Samuell 
Rowland[s] / / vjd " 

06tavius Gilchrift, referring to the third edition of 1639, 
remarks as follows: — 

" This is the fecond of two titles, either of which might have 
alone ferved the purpofe of a fign at the door; the former is how- 


Bibliographical Index. 

ever too elaborate to be overlooked, it being very neatly engraved 
(the artifl's name needleflly concealed) and divided into various 
compartments; the fides graphically defcribing the effects and 
confequences of intemperance, gluttony, and other vices. At the 
top is the eye of Heaven encircled by the Sun and Moon, and 
angels founding trumpets ; at the bottom is depided the mouth of 
Hell pouring forth its winged and fable inhabitants, Avheeling amid 

' In many an airy gyre. ' 

In the upper part of the centre are two figures, the one holding a 
coronet, the other a burning heart, both fupporting a fcroll, on 
which is infcribed 

' Heaven's glory, feek it. 
Earth's vanity, fly it. 
Hell's Horror, fere it.' 

'•'Below thefe is a very neat reprefentation of a Square illumined 
by the Moon, in which is feen The Bell-man, accompanied by his 
dog, with his lanthorn in one hand, ringing a bell vnth. the other, 
having his Bill, a fort of Pole-axe, the ufual companion of watch- 
men in the elder James's reign, hanging over his fhoulder. 

" Of the author of this ' niofl excellent Treatife,'^ it may juflly be 
regarded as extraordinary, that no account is difcoverable (at leafl: 
as far as my refearches have extended); and though his pamphlets 
almoll rival in number thofe of Greene and Prynne their pre- 
faces, thofe fruitful fources of information, throw no light upon 
the life or circumllances of the author. From the prefent and 
other of his volumes that I have read, (and thofe not a few) I 
judge he was an Ecclefiaflic by profeflion; and, inferring his zeal 
in the pulpit from his labours through the prefs, it Ihould feem 
that he was an adlive fervant of the church. 2 The prefent volume 

^ [So called in the title-page of the third edition.] 

- ["The opinions of both thefe writers (06lavius Gilchrifl and Sir Walter 
Scott) are entitled to fome refpecft, but they certainly looked upon two very 
different fides of the queflion. Gilchrift's conjecture that he (Rowlands) was an 
ecclefiaflic is quite untenable, and I am fully inclined to agree with Sir Walter 


Bibliographical Index. 

which is a mixture of bad poetry and better profe is (as the titles 
indicate) divided into three parts, each part being fubdivided into 
fedlions. The profe of Samuel Roiulands mufl not be compared 
with that of the great ecclefiaflics his contemporaries, with that of 
Hooker, and Hammond, and Taylor, and many others; there is how- 
ever, a warmth and fervour in it which, while it proves the fmcerity 
of his feelings, fometimes rifes to one of the lower degrees of 

" ' The common calls, cries, and founds, of the Bell-man,' with 
which this little volume concludes, fuffice to prove that there has 
been no change in the quahty of that venerable perfon's verfes 
from the reign of Charles the firfl down to that of George the 
third. Shreds of morality put into verfe, fcraps of fermons done 
into rhyme." — See John Y'sm's Bibliographical Memoranda, Briflol,. 
1816, 4to, pp. 256, 257, 258. 

" In 1628 Samuel Rowland (who, we apprehend, is not to be 
confounded Avith the popular comic poet, Samuel Rowlands) 
printed a pious produdlion called ' Heavens Glory, feeke it,' &c., 
at the end of which he inferted, ^vith a new title-page, ' The 
Common Cryes and Sounds of the Bell-man,' which only relate to 
what we now term ' Bell-mans Verfes :' they are all of a ferious 
and religious charadler." — Mr. J. Payne Collier {Biblio. Account, 
vol. i., p. 165). 

" The compilers of the two editions of Lowndes' Bibl. Man. have 
not perceived that 'Time well improved,' &c., 1657, was fub- 
flantially the fame work, firft, publifhed in 1628, under the title of 
■ Heavens Glory, feeke it,' &c." — Mr. J. Payne Collier {Biblio. 
Account vol. ii., p. 279). 

" All [Rowlands' produdlions] were ludicrous or fatirical, unlefs 
we except the firfl and the lafl — ' The Betraying of Chrifl,' 1598, 

Scott, that Rowlands' company was not of the moft fekci order, and that he 
mull often have frequented thofe 'haunts of diffipation' which he fo well defcribes 
in thofe works which are the hioivii produ6lions of his mufe." — Dr. E. F. 
RiMBAULT {Notes and Queries, Firft Series, vol. ii., p. 420).] 


Bibliographical Index. 

and 'Heavens Glory, feeke it,' 1628: poffibly (as we formerly 
remarked) they were not by him, and the fecond profeffes to be 
by Samuel Rowland, and not Rowlands. In our index to the 
' Bibl. Account,' &c., ii., 585, the miftake is made of mif-fpelling 
the name of Samuel Rowlands; and it is flill more likely that it 
fhould have been committed two hundred and fifty years ago. 
The two works above fpecified are unlike anything elfe Samuel 
Rowlands left behind him, and they were printed and publiflied by 
perfons whofe names, we think, do not appear on his other title- 
pages." — Mr. J. Payne Collier (Introdudlion to " Good Newes 
and Bad Newes," 1622, Yelloiu Series, No. 14). 

XXVII. The Famous Hiltory of GvY Earle of Warwicke. 
By Samvel Rowlands. LONDON, Printed for 
Edivavd Bi'ewjier at the Sign of the Crane in St. Pauls 
Churchyard. 1682, 4to, 44 leaves. 

The copy of this work from which the reprodu6lion was 
taken is in the Britifli Mufeum. It bears the date 1607, and 
was confequently fuppofed to be the firft edition; but after 
the reprint was finiflied the title-page was found to be an 
admirably executed facfimilc. Further inveftigation, after 
the qucftion was once raifed, proved the edition to be really 
that of 1682, publiflied by Edward Brewfter. Though thus 
a comparatively late edition, none earlier than that of 1649 
in the Bodleian could be found (the edition of 1632 in the 
Britifh Mufeum is in fuch a mutilated ftate as to be of little 
value in this way) ; and as a collation fliowed no effential 
differences between the two, it was thought well to retain 
the reprint already made, fubftituting its real title-page for 
the fpurious one, and giving the Dedication and Argument 
found in the edition of 1649. 

The following entry from the " Stationers' Regifters " 
gives the date of the original appearance of this work 
(Mr. Arber's Tranfcript, vol. iii., p. 382) : — 


Bibliographical Index. 

"23. Junij [1608]. 
" William, ffeerbrand. — Entred for his copie vnder th[e h]andes 
of mafler James Speight and Th[e] wardens A book called 
thefamotts hijlory of Guy E\d\rle of Warwick vj^" 

"This romance .... originally appeared in 1607 — at 
leaft no earlier edition of it is known, although an impreffion b)' 
Edward Allde, without date, may poffibly have preceded it. It 
was frequently reprinted down to as late a date as 1682, and it 
was fo popular, and fo many copies of it were deflroyed by 

frequent reading, that all are of rare occurrence 

In his addrefs, Rowlands has thefe lines, very applicable to the 
literature of the time when the romance firfl appeared : — 

' Mojl Jlrange in this fame Poct-plenty-age: 
When Epigrams and Satyrs biting, rage : 
Where Paper is employed every day, 
To carry Verfe about the Toivnforpay, 
That Stories JJioidd intomUd with Worthies lie. 
And Fame, through Age extin^, ohfcurely die.'' 

Epigrams and fatires were the fafhionable mode of writing from 
about 1595 to 16 15, and Rowlands himfelf, as we have already 
fhown, had given fpecimens of his talents in both." — Mr. J. Payne 
Collier {Biblio. Account, vol. ii., pp. 298-99). 

After referring to the early romances of " Guy Earl of 
Warwick," Mr. Corfer, in defcribing the 1667 edition of 
Rowlands' verfion, goes on to fay: — 

" Of the prefent verfion by Rovvland[s], which varies in feme 
degree from the older copies, the firfl. edition in 1607, 4to, and 
was followed by others, viz., by Edward Allde, 4to, without date, 
in 1654, 1667, 1679, ^"^^ 1682, and probably more frequently fl.ill 
— all of them, from the great popularity of the work, are now of 
confiderable rarity, and generally bring high prices. The title- 
page is chiefly filled with a large woodcut, reprefenting the hero 
Sir Guy on horfeback in full armour, Avith a large plume of feathers 
on his helmet, and another on his horfe's head, holding a boar's 
head on his fpear, and a lion walking tamely by his fide. There 


Bibliographical Index. 

are alfo fix other woodcuts in the volume, of coarfe defign and 
execution, illuflrative of the principal events of the narrative. It 
has a profe dedication to Philip Earl of Montgomery, Lord 
Herbert of Sherland, followed by a poetical addrefs " To the 
Noble Englifli Nation/' another of three flanzas "To the 
Honourable Ladies of England," and " The Argument " of the 

poem The poem is compofed in fix-line flanzas, 

and is divided into twelve cantos, each of them preceded by a 
heading of four lines. Like nioft of the other works of the fame 
Author, it betrays flrong marks of hafle and careleffnefs, which is 
apparent in many parts, and efpecially in the fecond encounter of 
Guy with Colbrond the Giant in the twelfth canto, whom he had 
already flain in the fixth, and had fent his head to the Emperor. 
But although betokening evident figns of hafle, fome of the de- 
fcriptions are \vritten with confiderable force and fkill, as witnefs 
the fpirited account of Guy's rencontre with the Dragon. . . . 
The eleventh canto, commencing with a defcription of Guy's 
"painful pilgrim life," contains fome fine thoughts expreffed in 

adequate language In this curious epifode the reader 

will fcarcely fail to have brought to his remembrance the famous 
fpeeches in Hamlet, in which the melancholy Prince of Denmark 
apoflrophizes a fkull in a manner, and even in words to which 
fome of the prefent lines bear a flriking fimilarity. That Shakef 
peare was indebted, in any refpe(5l to Rowland[s] for the flightefl 
hint of the fpeeches referred to is highly improbable, even although 
we were to fuppofe that the poem of the ' Hiflory of Guy of War- 
wick ' was written and circulated in manufcript for fome years pre- 
vious to its publication in 1607, nor is it neceffary to prefume that 
Rowland[s] derived his ideas from the work of the more diflin- 
guifhed poet. Refle(5lions of this kind are common to all languages 
and to all literatures ; and there is much in the above flanzas which 
may have been derived from the longer verfions of the old and well- 
known Englifh tranflation of the ' Dialogue between the Body and 
the Soul,' or from fome other fources of a like charadler." — Rev. 
Thomas Corser : unpublifhed MS. of Collc5la7iea A?iglo-Poetica. 

XXVIII. Mifcellaneous Poems. 4to, 12 leaves. 


^>.l■k■.'-ukW,-.-A^^^.vJ.^,.^-'-.-',^^^S^!^ ^ Kl/,.:.'t/<WU/lfr'fmrfMMK{/!K/l2SZSL. \m . vpif »»»,/»" "■' ».i..M,iiiyrn^ 




I V D A S in defpaire. 

The feuen Words of our 
Sauior on the Croffe. 

Other Poems ofi the Pafsion. 


Printed by Adam Iflip. 



fhipfull, Sir Nicholas WalJJi Knight, cheefe 

luftice of her Maiefties court of common pleas in 
Ireland, and of her Highnejfc counfaile there. 

Lbeit (right Worjfhipfull) that 
the art of Poefie is in fort dealt 
withall, as Cactis once vfed 
Herctdes oxen, when he drew 
them backewards vp the hill : 
being cuftomarily in thefe daies wrefted and 
turned to the fooleries of Loue, and fuch like 
bafe fubie6l of fancies abortiue births, cornier- 
ting Poetries imploiment to follies vfe, and 
wit ill fpent runnes violent that way, with the 
current of errour. Yet hath it a natiue diuine 
off-fpring and iffue, wherof partaking kindly, 
floates with a calme tempered gale from all 

Aiij mif- 

mifcarying wracke, to the harbour of a quiet 
applaufe. The-vpright and beft approoued 
cenfure I prefume gains your Worfhips ver- 
tuous allowance, to whofe wifdome and gra- 
uitie alfociate with an heroicall fprite, I dedi- 
cate affe61;ions teftimony by thefe vnpolifhed 
lines, craning your fauourable fault-fhadow- 
ing view, if in the manner any thing appeare 
defe6tiue, trufting that as a fruitfull tree the 
more it is fruitladen, the more it declineth, fo 
your plenteous accoplifhed vertues wil hum- 
ble them in daining to accept the loue I reue- 
rence you withall : wifhing your Wor- 
fhip Worlds profperitie, and H ca- 
ucus happineffe. 

Yo7irs in the beji endeuoitrs of affe^lion. 

S. R. 

Ven when no beauties of the garnifht skie 
Had left the view of Heauen-makers wonder, 
And Phebus fteeds were gallop'd pofting by 
Their hafty fpeed had got the worlds half vn- 
Yea eu'ry creature that had life or fprite, (der, 
Mourn'd at the darke approch of vgly night: 

An hofl of fwarteft fable foggie clouds, 
Wrapt in faire Qinthia from her filuer fhine, 
Mantling her brightneffe with their obfcure fhrouds 
As though heav'ns lampe were come to lateft fine. 
Her cannapie of flarres was eke vnfeene, 
Whereon fhe wonted mount, imperious Queene. 

The airy winged people gone to reft. 
Had clear'd with day, not left a note vnpaid, 
All other creatures that might be expreft. 
In caues and holes for nights repofe were laid, 
Of wild, or tame, none raung'd or ran aftray. 
But rauenous, by darke that hunt for pray. 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Thicke miftie vapours were difperfed foule, 

Prohibiting day-followers to be feene, 

Difpenfing only with the fliriking Owle, 

And eies that Nature put lights hate betweene, 
Such as were baniflit from the face of day, 
To lurke the couert fhameleffe night away. 

Then child of vtter darkneffe, lights offence, 

Intituled: The lo^ fo7me of perdition, 

Hired againfl his Lord for thirty pence 

To be a traitor vnder hels commifsion, 

In this nights time, did rebell troupes increafe 
To manage armes againfl the Prince of peace. 

Toward Cedron brooke th'accurfed leader goes, 
With horfe and foot, weapon'd with launce and fpeare, 
His bleffed maifter vs'd that walke he knowes, 
Vnworthy wretch had oft ben with him there, 
Oft as a friend the place he did frequent. 
But now foe-harted, trecherous of intent. 

As in a garden Adam difobayed. 

And there became a captiue to the diuell, 

So in a garden lefus was betrayed, 

To fuffer death for Adams former euill : 
Within a garden Adams crime offended, 
For which Chrift was in garden apprehended. 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

And as in pleafures garden at the fall, 
For Adams clothing, dead beafls skins God gaue, 
In euidence that death went ouer all. 
And that his garment might prefage his graue: 
So Chrift in garden tombe and dead mans fhrowd, 
Defray'd our debts, with paiment bed alowd. 

Ouer the brooke, to garden they repaire, 
(Swift were their feet about the (heading blood) 
Euen to the place that lefus vs'd for praier. 
Where he intreated grace for fmners good, 
Where he confulted to redeeme and faue: 
Thither they came, refolu'd his life to haue. 

With eafie fearch the guiltleffe may be found, 
Whofe quiet thoughts and peace vnite in one, 
A voice, Whom feeke yoii? threw them all to ground, 
A power diuine, to make true godhead knowne. 
lefus came forth, encountred them with breath. 
And they at once fell backward all to th'earth. 

Had then his will confented to his power, 

If luftice had appear 'd, and mercy hid, 

They had defcended hell that finfull hower, 

Like Qorah, Da than, and Abiram did. 
Where th'one was feandale to the feruant done. 
The other was rebellion gainft the fonne. 

B While 

Poems vpon the PafsioJi. 

While Jeroboam ftretcht his threatning hand 
(Right infolent and full of daring pride) 
To ftay the Prophet, giuing ftridt command, 
Judgement laid hold on him, his hand was dryde: 
But thefe in armes, and violent enterprife, 
Though throwne to ground, doe vnrepentant rife, 

Deaths harbenger vnto Damafco towne, 

Then bloody-mind Saint-perfecuting Sattl 

Was with like powreful voice from heauen thrown down, 

But to conuerfion grace imploy'd his fail/ 

With greater fauour, bliffe can none acquaint. 
Then crowne a greeuous fmner, glorious Saint. 

But thefe vvhofe hearts were hardned, fight extindl. 
Haters of knowledge, children of the night, 
At war with God, in league with Sathan linckt 
Groffe darkneffe followers, fhunners of the light, 
Stiffe necked, ftubborne, and rebellious lewes, 
Contemne faluation; offered grace refufe. 

Wifdomes beloued, Ifraels vvifefl king. 
Doth fay the wicked cannot fleeping reft, 
Till they are pleafed with fome ill done thing; 
The worfer deed, the doer likes for beft: 

A minute fpent in good, feems long loth'd day, 
A night of fmne, but moment ftolne away. 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

How toilefome tedious had that watching bin, 

If vertue had perfuaded thereunto, 

But Owle-eied they became to compaffe fin, 

Fit was the time fo foule a fadt to do: 

That work of darkneffe, ioin'd with darkneffe power 
Might meet together all in darkneffe hower. 

When they fhonld reft, their malice not indur'd it, 

For malice neuer clofeth fleeping eies, 

And when they fliould not wake, reuenge procur'd it, 

Reuenge, doth hourely, fome reuenge deuife. 
Who rides the deuill hath no curbe they fay. 
For malice drawes, and fury fpurs away. 

Th'vnfeemely vprore, to the night vnkind. 
Happening as frightfull as in fires danger, 
Caus'd him make haft that left his clothes behind, 
Hardly entreated, like vnwelcome ftranger. 
For in retire, his cafe like lofephs ftands. 
Who left his garment in his miftreffe hands. 

T'was no offence fpringing from his intent. 
That did demerite violent force refift him, 
Yet pawn'd he fhirt for skin before he went, 
Gladdeft when naked gone that rage had mift him, 
What furies guided this mifguided fwarme.^ 
To bend their force againft vnthoughted harme. 

B ij When 

Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

When traitor meets, thefe quaint deceits he had, 

In geflure, kind imbracements with a kiffe; 

In words. All haile, God faue thee, or be glad; 

Yet murder, blood, and death, lies hid in this. 
This cup of gold did poifons draught begin. 
This greene had ferpents lurking hid within. 

The word All haile, feru'd loab to falute, 
(Good words do often make for ill pretence,) 
But Abner found a mortall ftab the fruit, 
While falfhood fpake, twas murder did infence: 
Like that, was this of ludas falfe intent, 
By word, God fane, the deed Deftroy was ment. 

All haile, the Angell reuerently did vfe. 
With heau'nly tongue, to holy virgins eare. 
All haile, in Pilats hall they did abufe, 
That fcorning Chrift, prefented Aiie there, 
Higheft in fauour of all women gain'd it, 
And chiefeft fmner of all men, profan'd it. 

Firft word it was, Gods gracious loue tv'nfold 
Beginning at our fauiours incarnation, 
Firfl word wherewith falfe ludas bought and fold, 
Whofe trafficke turn'd Chrifts death, his own damnation. 
What profite his that all the world fhould winne.^ 
With foule in deaths eternall debt by fmne. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Why com'ft thou friend ? what mean'ft thou, lefus faid, 

At th'inftant houre my praiers and teares commend thee, 

To giue a kiffe whereby I am betraide, 

And with, All haile, brings troupes to apprehend meef 
I tearme thee friend, vngratefull as thou art. 
That fhow'ft nor friend nor yet difciples part. 

To call thee friend, it doth thus much betoken, 

No caufe in me hath canfeld loues defire. 

But thy reuolting hath our friendfhip broken, 

Vnaltred I remaine the fame entire: 

If thou with Daiiici, I haiie finned, couldft fay. 
His anfwere thine. Thy fmne is done away. 

Returne thee with repentant hearts imbrace. 
And mercy fhall with iuftice dome fufpend, 
I left not thee, why doeft thou run from grace. 
Though thou haft fold me, ftill I call thee friend. 
But if thou wilt not be reclaimed backe, 
Be thou thy felfe thine owne foules wilfull wracke. 

When murder had faluted, treafon kift, 

And bribery imbrac'd with figne of gladneffe, 

In which the traitors feruice did confifl, 

Then prefs'd the lewes on Chrift with furious madneffe. 
Like hunger-paunched vvolues prone to deuour 
The lambe fubiedled to their rauening power. 

B iij Right 

Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Right manly valiant Petcy did him beare, 
When no difciplc durfl attempt the like, 
T Vnfheath his fword, and cut off Malats eare, 
Againft an armed multitude to ftrike, 

Danger and feare are cowards turnd afide 

When manhood is by refolution tride. 

But lefus did no humane forces need, 
That legions had of Angels at command. 
And Peter had no charge to fight, but feed 
The flocke of fheepe committed to his hand, 
It was Gods will to fuffer, not refift, 
His power gaue power, and finne did what it lifi;. 

He was content, their violent force fliould bind him 
And lead him thence vnto the torturing place, 
To teare his flefli with whips to mocke and blind him, 
To buffet and to fpit vpon his face. 

T'accufe him falfe by flanders lying breath. 

To dome him fentence fliames moft odious death. 

Errors torment my tortur'd foule perplexed, 
Fell furies fright, and hale me on away, 
To Cayphas and the reft with horrour vexed 
Goes Simons fonne, Gods fon did falfe betray, 
Such is my fmne againft that guiltleffe blood, 
No baulme in Ifrael left to doe me good. 

They anfwer'd, careleffe of my wretched ftate, 
IVJiafs that to vsf Looke thoit thy f elf e vnto it, 
Then vengeance I exped;, grace comes too late, 
Refolue no leffe, for that you brib'd me do it, 
Sathan feduc'd, I acted the offence, 
Defpaire is come, there lies your thirty pence. 

I am perditions child, outcaft forlorne, 
All haile in word, but in the heart all hatefull. 
It had ben good, fo bad had nere ben borne. 
That of all creatures am the mofl ingratefull : 
Oh had I neuer liu'd, furuiuing fhame 
Had vnreported hid my odious name. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Bafc couetoufneffe no more Gehezies finne, 

My intreft in that crime doth thine controule, 

Thou waft but leaper of polluted skinne, 

My leprofie is a defiled foule: 

Thou took'ft a bribe againfi: thy maifters will, 
But I was brib'd to kiffe, and kifl to kill. 

Maries good worke Chrift promis'd to commend 

Perpetually in euer-liuing praife, 

But my vile acl beyond all flinted end, 

Shall euidence I trod the left hand waies, 
My title thus the Scriptures fhall record: 
yudas Ifcarioth, that betrayd the Lord, 

Three euils in one I did commit, in this 
That gainft the King of glory I haue done: 
Deceit betray 'd with fliew of kind-men t kiffe, 
Couetoufneffe incenft, that finne begun, 
Impudent boldneffe did intrude the deed, 
Ere any mou'd or wifht me to proceed. 

I knew the choife, and gainefull happie way, 
That heauens gate, was fi;raighteft dore to enter, 
I taught the world, take heed broad paths doe flray. 
And yet my felfe the wide-gate wilfull venter. 
Like Noahs workemen, fuch my flate is found 
They built an arke for him, themfelues were drownd. 



Poems vpon the Pafsiou. 

I haue excluded faiths refolued truft 
In him by whom the true repentant Hue, 
Qain-V\kQ affirming nought but vengeance muft 
Reward my fmnes, mercy no fuch forgiue: 
My heart's indurate, hardned, vnrelenting, 
Pafl is the deed, the doer paft repenting. 

Though Daiiid found remorfe to vvaile his fmne, 
And Nathans comfort, eas'd his mournfull taske, 
Diftruft and horrour haue fo hemd me in, 
That might I haue, I hopeleffe will not aske; 

Feare, fhame, and guilt do haunt me at the heeles, 
Of iudgement, men, and what my confcience feeles. 

My dying foule, refufmg lining meane. 

Denies with heav'nly Manna to be fed 

A fea of teares can neuer rince it cleane. 

Yet could one drop, that drop fhould ne're be fhed. 
What teares, what praiers can his atonement make, 
Whofe portion is in vengeance fearefull lakef 

Mine inward confcience doth foules ruine tell, 
Authenticke witneffe, and feuere accufer. 
Where I abide, I feeling find a hell 
Tormenting me, that am felfe torment chufer: 

Sound confcience well is faid like wall of braffe; 

Corrupted, fit compar'd to broken glaffe. 

C More 


FOCTHS vpon the pafsion. 

More blind then thofe vvhofe fight fight-giuer gaue, 
More deaffe and dumbe then any that he cured, 
More dead then Lazants in his flincking graue, 
When he deaths vaut till fift dales baile indured. 
Not eies, eares, limmes, tongue, body, haue defedl, 
It is my foule, that faluing heauens reied:. 

If firft borne man, the firfl of defp'rate mind, 
By whom the firft of guiltleffe blood was fhed. 
Did fay, There was no grace for him to find. 
But vengeance muft be heaped on his head: 
Let me (fmnes monfter, maffe of curfed euill) 
Bid Sathan welcome, and imbrace the deuill. 

When Chrift fhall come in clouds, and fmnes be fcand, 
All Adams fonnes expecting rightfull dome, 
I wretch amongft the goats fliall trembling ftand, 
The right-hand fheepe, affoord no traitor roome. 
To crie Lord, Lord, this anfwere fhall be got, 
Depart you curfed, hence I know you not. 

The cafting out of deuils then obie(5ted, 
Will ceafe no wrath, extenuate no dangers: 
Not words with God, well doing is refpedted. 
His Citizens deeds difference from the ftrangers, 

Me thinkes I heare the iudge, fterne, full of ire; 

Pronounce my fentence to eternall fire. 



Poems vpoii the Pafsion. 

Was I not cald to heav'ns roiall feaft? 
I was: but came as one that little cared, 
How came I ? brutifh like vnreuerent beaft, 
Wanting a wedding garment, vnprepared: 
Bold daring wretch in fuch a facred place, 
To preffe in fmnes caft fuite, rent, torne, and bafe. 

But fearefull guerdon for fo foule attempt, 
All-feeing eies beheld my rags bewray 'd. 
And moft feuerely thence he did exempt. 
Bind him both hand and foot (his iuftice faid) 
And caft him out, no fuch may here partake, 
The Lambe with Sion, Sathan and the Lake. 

Would I had neuer knowne Apoftles place, 
Would I had ne're ben meffenger of truth, 
Would I had neuer preacht the way to grace, 
Would I had ne're ben borne, or died in youth : 
Who knowes his maifters will and doth negled; it, 
Sore ftripes and many fhall feuere corredl it. 

I muft falute AJhur and Elains traines, 

To drinke with Tiiball of the wrathfull cup, 

Edom inuites me to th'infernall paines 

No time of grace, with Chrift againe to fup. 

Now feaft where teeeth are gnafht& hands are wrong. 
Where Dmes begs for drops to coole his tong. 

C ij Down 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Downe by the way that Corah went to hell, 

Like Dathan and Abirain to defcend 

Where furies, fiends and damned ghofts do dwell, 

And euer torments, neuer know an end, 

Let earth deuide and opening fwallow then, 
The moll; accurs'd of all the fonnes of men. 

The man that from lerufalem defcended, 
And hapned in the hands of bloody theeues, 
A pittifull Samaritane befriended 
With mercy, and his hard diftreffe releeues: 
Such holy loue, true charity fuppli'd him, 
Pitty was prefent and no grace deni'd-him. 

But I from new lerufalem retyr'd 
The reflfull Canaan, happineffe vnbounded, 
For thirty pence hels iourny being hyr'd, 
In Sathans fnares I fell, that theefe hath wounded: 
And prieft is paft, Samaritane gone by. 
Seeing me cureleffe, careleffe let me lie. 

Ah Magdalen fower forrowes turn'd thy fweet, 
Well didft thou weepe to wafh, and wafhing gaine, 
With hairie towell wiping lefus feet, 
Thy true repentant teares did grace obtaine: 
While I thy vertues fought to haue difgraft, 
Tearming that holy worke, A needleffe waft. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

But happy woman, guiltleffe waft' controld, 
How falfely did I wifh thy ointment fpared ? 
How couetous faid I, Better this been fold 
And gmn the poore, waft for the poore I cared? 
Ah no, my guifty confcience doth deny it, 
I bare the purfe, and would haue gained by it. 

Sanipfon, till Sathan fierce Philiftine caught me, 
And in his rage put out my fprituall eies, 
Then blind in fmne, to Qayphas houfe he brought me, 
Againft the piller where all mercy lies, 
I bent my force to mooue the corner ftone, 
Deftrudlion fell, my felfe deftroy'd alone. 

Like lezabels, fo my corrupted thought, 
When fhe complotted for good Naboths ground, 
Cleare purchafe twas, her wile his vineyard bought; 
Such feem'd my bribe, I held it money found : 

But fee how foone fweet fmnes conuert to fower, 

I loath for euer, that I lou'd an hower. 

Thefe three deuide my foule, Fear, Thought, & Anguifti, 

Their intreft is the forfaits of my fall. 

But while in claime they ftriuing let me languifh. 

The roaring Lion comes and feazeth all: 

Infatiable ferpent pleas'd with nought but this, 
Both foule and body muft be graunted his. 

C iij If 


Poems vpon the Pa f si on. 

If graceleffe outcafts in this world begin 
To taft of fecond death's tormenting power, 
If foules furpriz'd by felfe-wrought murdring finne, 
Turne vengeance glaffe to run a ftayleffe hower, 
Then here in earneft of perpetuall care, 
I vveare damnations liuery, blacke defpaire. 

Deuorc'd from mercy, alienate from grace, 
Reft of repentance, wedded vnto euill, 
From higheft calling, downe to loweft place. 
From chofen Twelue, a fmgled outcaft deiiill ; 
From th'holy city lou'd of God fo well. 
Within whofe ftreets may no vncleaneffe dwell. 

When Chrift foretold intended treafon nie. 
By one of vs his guefts to be betray 'd 
Each llraight inquir'd, Lord is it /, or I? 
But my demand had anfwer. Thou haft /aid. 

I that was fed that night with loues regard, 

Return'd the giuer treafon for reward. 

Darke night, black deed, blind foule, and Sathans flaues 

Did fit, defile, deftroy it felfe, did further. 

With fliade, with fmne, with death, with clubs & flaues, 

T'intrap, betray, condemne, afsift to murder. 

The Lambe of God, the rocke, the dore, the vine, 

The Angels brightneffe, heav'ns eternall fliine. 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Much vvorfe, though Ioab-X\^^ I gaue a kiffe, 
I pris'd my birth-right bafe, at Efawes gaine, 
I putchas'd hell with loffe of heauens bliffe, 
And in effedt, exchanged ioy for paine. 
Oh foolifh fot, vile earthly droffe efteemer, 
To fell true life, dead Adams fonnes redeemer. 

Thou partial 1 hand fwai'd fword of Peters drawne, 
I fhould ben mangled, and not M ulcus eare, 
Like currifh dog, it was my flattering fawne, 
Did bite my maifter vvorfe then any there, 
Miftaken champion in thy valour fwaruing, 
To giue his eare my trecherous hearts deferuing. 

I was cheefe aclor in the lewifh fpight, 
I was a captaine to that rafcall rout, . 

I wrought the tumult of that guilty night, 
I was blind guide, to that they went about, 
They all expedled notice come from me, 
Till craft had kift, they knew not which was he. 

Falfe tongue, pronounc'd All haile to hurtfull end. 
When hollow heart fequeftred loues true zeale, 
Heav'ns mildneffe asked, Why art thou come friend? 
Straight violent hands, not words, our thoughts reueale. 
Call him not friend, that fauors mod of foe, 
Tearme me thy hangman, for I merite fo. 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

In death's purfute, infatiate thirfling blood, 
We pofted thence to Priefls, with rudeft throng, 
Where pureft lambe before his fhearer flood, 
Pleading not guilty, by truths filent tong, 
Ther's craft accufing, hate helps to deuife, 
And falfhood forgeth, in a mint of lies. 

My impious eies beheld without remorfe, 
The graceleffe vfage of heau'ns gracious king, 
Scornd, fpit at, mocked, yet repentance force, 
Sought not for fhelter vnder mercies wing, 
In all thefe euils I pitttied not his paine. 
Til being condemn'd, then greeu'd my greeues in vain. 

No true contrition had my faults defence. 
Though I confefs'd I fmn'd in his betraying, 
Twas defp'rate fatisfadlion came from thence, 
For faith was liueleffe, fhould ben vengeance flaying, 
IVrath is gone forth, was Mofes admonition. 
But lights on me, that am for wraths perdition. 

What wondrous obiedls haue mine eies beheld, 
Deaffe, dumbe and lame, the blind and cureleffe, cured; 
The ftubborne winds with checking calmely ftild, 
The dead reuiu'd, death's fleepe foure daies indured, 
Fine loaues, two fifli, fine thoufands fatisfied, 
Yet more then much, fpare crums were multiplied. 


Poems vpoii the Pafsion. 

My taft did vvitneffe water turn'd to wine, 
One cur'd that toucht my maifters vefture hemme, 
Commanded deuils forth men, to enter fwine. 
And in the fea deftrud;ion plunging them, 

Mine eares haue heard, and eies haue feene the fight 
That Kings haue vvifht, and Prophets neuer might. 

Yet he that's cal'd manflaier from beginning, 
Deceiuer, dragon, ferpent, father of lies, 
God of this world, author of humane finning, 
Hardner of hearts, blinder of fpirituall eies, 
Prince of the aire, malicious euill fprite, 
Made me hels gueft, whom heav'ns did kind inuite. 

Like as the brauing greene, but barren tree 
(That flourifht faire when not a ^'gg^ was found) 
Chrift curs'd with, Netier fruit grow more on thee, 
Becaufe it did no good, but comber ground : 
So fares the falfe deluding fhow of mine, 
Greene leav'd beginning, withered fruitleffe fine. 

Could finnes-befotted, hell-path wrandrers, fee 
The horrours on an outcaft wretch impofed, 
Or fence the inward worme that gnaweth me, 
(Bondflaue to bondage neuer to be lofed) 

They would retire the flefh moft fearefull race. 
To auoid hels gaole, obtain'd with loffe of grace. 

D Me 


Poems vpon the Pafsioii. 

Me thinkes my confcience turnes a blacke leav'd booke, 
Titl'd Diftruft, dedicate to Defpaire, 
Where couetous eie and traitrous heart do looke 
On vengeance lines, pointed this period, Care; 
The argument is (hame, the fubiecl fmne. 
The index thus explaines the euils therein: 

A' poftle once, increafmg Chrifls eleuen, 
B agbearer, to the charge of purfe afsign'd, 
Q ailed to preach faluations path to heauen, 
D eflrudlions heire, the worft of wicked mind : 
E nuying at good vvorke by others done, 
F aithleffe to God, falfe hearted to his fonne. 

G reedy to gaine on earth, with heauens loffe, 
H opeleffe of mercy, in fin's moft diftreffe, 
/ udas whofe kiffe prefag'd Chrifts dying croffe, 
K nowledge contemner, errors foule fucceffe. 
L oitrer in holy harueft, place abufer, 
M urdrer of life, mine owne damnation chufer. 

N aked of grace, the fouleft ere defiled, 
O ffences ad:or in the higheft degree, 
P rouoking wrath, from mercies throne exiled, 
Q uenching the fprite, that erfi; gaue light in me, 
R enouncing glories race to gain the crowne, 
S eruant to finne, whofe hire pale death laies downe. 

T raitor 


poems vpon the pafsion. 

T raitor to God, that breathing earth deluded, 

27 nholy-thoughted, full of bitter gall, 

IV ots querrifter, from Angels quires excluded, 

X pian the outward, inward, not at all, 

Y oaked by fnine perpetuall, Sathans flaue, 
Z eale in his feruice loft, that none can faue. 

This regifter records the race I run, 

By caradters fpelling my future woe, 

A tragedy by me mufl be begun. 

On hels blacke ftage, for there to adl I goe. 

Since eies of God, and all in heauen abhorre me, 
I will defcend, the pit hath conforts for me. 

Curs'd be the parents that ingendred me, 
Curs'd be the wombe that bare, and paps that fed, 
Curs'd be the day when I worlds light did fee, 
Curs'd be the houre my foule from grace was led, 

Curs'd be the time when I did entertaine 

Curfed affection, to accurfed gaine. 

Retire for euer from the fweet fociety 
Oi Peter, lames, and John, true heires of grace; 
Conuerfe remaine of Tiine, with all impiety. 
No eie henceforth fhall view Chrifts traitors face. 
End loathed daies, my fadl abhorres your light. 
Wrap me from eies cole-fac'd eternall night. 

D ij Sauls 


Poems vpon the Pafsioii. 

Sauls frightfull guefl, that fence depriuing fprite, 
Outragious rauing fury vvhifpers, Hang thee, 
What Syon tunes, or Datiids harpe delight, 
Can ceafe or eafe the horrours that do pang me? 
Then be my inftrument one iarring firing, 
And treble woe, the houling note I fmg. 

Bufh-creeping Came, beholding for thy end 

More to an arrow, then the marke-mans aime; 

I doe difdaine blind Lamech fhould befriend, 

None in my tragedy fhall action claime: 
But I and Sathan we haue both agreed. 
To leaue the world a defp'rate damned deed. 

Not to difmount a check-cloud earthy heape, 
Or make foule paffage by a poinard point, 
Nor to bequeath the fea a drowning leape; 
But fatall cord fhall cracke my breathing ioint, 

Abfolons tree, prowd Hamans halter-knell. 

And I the hangman, like Achitophell. 

Lead on defpaire, confounder of my fprite. 
Direct: vnto fome nooke of hellifh fhade, 
For fliames fake, be it gloomier then that night 
In which by me heav'ns brightneffe was betraide/ 
Blacker then death, more fable hew'd then hell, 
Where fulpher flames, with vtter darkneffe dwell. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Harder then PharoaJis tenne times hardned heart, 
Bloudier then Abels butcher, far inclin'd/ 
End traitors life, begin a hangmans part. 
Let hangmans part performe thy defp'rate mind, 
Thy defp'rate mind be vvitneffe th'art accurft, 
Rent heart, drop blood, gufli bowels, belly burfl. 

Peters teares at the 
Cockes crowing. 

Ome fharpefl greefs imploy repentant eies, 
Taske them as bitter drops as ere were fhed. 
Send teares to earth, and fighs vp to the skies, 
This inftant houre a Soule and Sorrows wed, 
Sweet teares and fighs, at dolours deere requefts, 
Come you & yours my harts right welcom gefts. 

Let eies become the fountaines of my teares, 
And let my teares be flouds to moift my heart, 
And let my heartfull of repentant feares. 
By teares and forrowes, turne a true conuert : 
At bafe obiedtions of as bafe a maid, 
With oths and curfes I haue Chrift denai'd. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

The vvatchfull bird that centinels the morne, 
Shrill herald to Anroraes early rifing, 
That oft proclaimes the day ere day be borne, 
Diflinguifher from pitch-fac'd nights difguifing, 
Surceas'd to heed, why nature taught him crow, 
And did exclaime on me for fmning fo. 

O haughty vaunts refembling skie-bred thunder, 
How far remote your adlions ftand aloofe, 
A coward heart kept words and deeds afunder, 
Stout champion brags are quailed in the proofe. 
Weake womans breath hath ouerthrowne a rocke, 
And humane pride is daunted by a Cocke. 

Harken this birds rebuke; and harkning, feare: 
Falfe periur'd tongue, now are thy boaftings tri'de, 
Chrift hardeft fortunes part thou vowd'ft to beare, 
But loe a cocke doth crow it, thou haft li'de: 

Thy deedleffe words, words vnconfirmd by truth, 
Haue turnd mine eies to teares, my heart to ruth. 

The dales approch that whilome nature taskes, 
He chaunted not, nor ment blacke nights defcending, 
But foule fac'd fmne, from fcarffing words vnmaskes; 
Plie bitter teares your fuite, for wraths fufpending, 
Eies that when Chrift fweat blood, fecure did fliiber, 
Now fhed more tears then truthles tong can number. 



Poems vpon the pafsion. 

Lament my foule thy ftate, a ffcate diftreft, 

Thou art reuolt from true felicity, 

Sigh forrowes forth, let greefes weepe out the reft, 

Weepe wretched man repleat with mifery, 
Let neuer eies giue cheekes a fpace to drie, 
Till teares reraine loft orace in mercies eie. 

Weepe falteft brinifh teares, the more the fweeter. 
Weepe fatisfadlion, fmnes repentant foule, 
Weepe fraile difciple, woman-daunted Peter, 
Weepe weakling, fubiecl: to a Cockes controule, 
Weepe Chrifts deniall, worft of all thy crimes, 
And ouerweepe each teare tenne thoufand times. 

O God from whom all graces doe abound, 
For thy afsifting aid I humbly call. 
Lend mercies hand to raife from fmfull ground. 
And being on foot, protect againft like fall, 
Thy fauours Lord I truly do implore, 
Rifmg to ftand, ftanding to fall no more. 


The I ewes mocking ofChrift. 

jOntempt, reproch, difdaine and fpight, 
|A meeting had in Pilafs hall, 
iTo fcoffe at Chrift, finne to delight 
Hell furies, and themfelues vvithall: 
In purple robe they did him place, 
Meane while their foules difrob'd of grace. 

A thornie crowne vpon his head, 

A reed (for fcepter) in his hand, 

Foes guard him round, all friends were fled, 

Aloofe his poore Difciples ftand. 
All haile was heard on ev'ry fide, 
And he fwaied moft, could moll; deride. 

They blind his fight, whofe foules more blind 
Had quite extindl the light of grace, 
They buffet him, and bid him find 
Who 'twas that ftrooke him on the face: 
All fpeech of fpight and damned ieft. 
With euery vice, was in requeft. 



Poems vpon the Pa/sion. 

When fierce Philiflians had difmaid 
The penfiue Saul, and forc'd him flie, 
To him that bare his fpeare, he faid 
Oh draw thy fword, friend me to die, 

Let not my deaths-man be my foe, 

Leaft fcorning fhame difhonour fo. 

Such greefes a noble heart doth find, 

To heare reprochfuU words offence, 

Like forrowes cannot gall his mind. 

If mortall wounds fhould rid him hence: 
The thoughts that haughty courage beares, 
Greeue more at words then deaths pale feares. 

Then what report can aptly fhow 

The pafsions Chrifts afflid;ed foule 

(Through taunts and fcoffes) did vndergoe. 

By lewifh abied: bafe controule? 

By fo much more his greefes increaft, 
By how much more his guilt was leaft. 

Aboue all flefli that ere was borne, 

Of iniuries he moft indur'd, 

Becaufe inflicfted wrongfull fcorne. 

No fpot of crime in him procurd, 
If one offend and fhame difpleafe, 
The fault compar'd 'twill fomewhat eafe. 

E Th'Egip- 


Poems vpon the Pafsioii. 

Th'Egiptians greeuing of the lewes, 

And the Philiftians vexing Said, 

The mockes the children once did vfe 

T'oftend Gods Prophet therewithal!, 
And Michols fcoffing Ifraels king, 
Were common wrongs, a daily thing. 

Such wrongs, of wrongs vfurpe the name, 

To thofe extreames to lefus done, 

The world hath neuer knowne like fhame, 

Of that fmne laid vpon Gods fonne, 
It had been iuft, on man accurft, 
If forrowes had perform'd their vvorfl, 

But when a pure and holy life, 

With fpot or blemifh neuer ftayn'd, 

Twixt God and man fhall vmpire ftrife, 

To be himfelfe for guilty payn'd : 

What wrongs fo great, what paines were fuch.-^ 
Who but a God would doe fo much? 


^^y The feuen words of Chrift 

vpon the Croffe. 

\Pater ignofce illis, qitia nefcinnt quid^ 

At her (our Sauiors loue to Tinners, cries) 
Forgiiie them this their fin to me hath donne, 
For they by whom my tortur'd body dies, 
Know not they murder thy life-giuing fonne: 
PVJiat I indure, in flefh and fprite deuiding, 
They do it through blind ignorance mifguiding. 

Oh Charity of wondrous Admiration, 
And patience farre extending humane fence, 
Sunfhine of grace, to deed of darke damnation, 
True pardoner, to pardonleffe offence. 

Not craning eafe for felfe fuftaining woes. 

But fauour for his perfecuting foes. 

Pleading for thofe whofe tongues did mofl defame him, 
Soliciting for them that did accufe him, 
Excufmg fuch as wickedly did blame him, 
Tendring of loue where hatred did refufe him. 
Their ordur'd foules feeking fo to refine, 
Grace might reduce them to celeftiall fhine. 

E ij His 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

His fute imports, his holy thoughts did fay, 
Inflidl not iuftice on thefe finne-defiled, 
Vpon my flefh thine angers burden lay, 
Graunt nothing be to thee vnreconfiled, 

Leaft my redemption fhould vnperfedl feeme, 

Or any fmne I did not full redeeme. 

He would not haue our fmnes afcend vp fo, 
That they (liould come vnto his fathers fight, 
Nor yet his fathers vengeance fall fo low, 
That on vs fmne committers it fhould light. 

But plac'd himfelfe betwixt both wrath and fmne, 
True reconcilement, by true loue to winne. 

For Murderers that gainft his life tranfgreffed, 
With meekefb loue he humbly craued grace 
For fuch, as their vile fmne left vnconfeffed, 
And flill fpit venome in their makers face, 

That peirc'd his heart, from which his blood abounds, 
To them he giues acquittance for his wounds. 

They to the Citty would not backe repaire. 
Ere cruelty haue left him life-depriued, 
He would not die, before his feruent praier, 
Intreats to haue their dying foules reuiued, 
His fprite from forth his body pall; no rather, 
But forth his mouth went with it, Pardon father. 



^%^SiAmen dico tibi^ hodie mecum eris 
in Paradifo. 

\Ritly I fay, that am heau'ns glory giuer, 
\To thee true penitent repentant theefe, 
This day, from a defil'd and fmfull liuer 
Shalt thoit be Sainted in exiling greefe, 
With me this day thou paffeft to the blefl, 
In Paradife, where glorious Angels reft. 

Euen at the wane of life, the dying hower, 
This happy theefe did offer God his heart, 
His daies were dedicate to Sathans power, 
Only remain'd one moment to conuert 

Wherein he gaue his heart to him that ought it, 
Preuenting him that long in hope had fought it. 

The hellifh foe ftood bold vpon his claime, 
Becaufe to theeues he is mifguiding guider. 
But heau'nly friend did countermaund the fame 
Being fmners father, Mercies firme prouider 
No fooner did his true contrition fay. 
Lord thinke on me, but Sathan loft his pray. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Caines offering was a facrifice of corne, 
Abels the Lambes, (the meekeft vnto flaughter) 
Annaes the fonne that of her vvombe was borne, 
lepthaes his fole and deere affe(5ted daughter, 
Noe weathers, Abraham doues, and Daiiid gold, 
Melchiftdech of wine did offrings hold. 

All thefe did offer things of great efteeme, 
Yet none fo rich as this poore theefe prefented. 
And offered heart to God doth greater feeme. 
Then what by heauen and earth can be inuented. 
Nothing more gratefull vnto Mercies throne, 
Then gift of heart, due debt to heauen alone. 

That debt of all the thefts which he had donne. 
His fatisfadtion rightly did reftore. 
Repaying in one hower to the Sonne, 
What all his life rob'd father of before. 

Obtaining grace, for all deferts of flrife. 

To be recorded in the booke of life. 

His wandring courfes are retyr'd from danger, 

Vnto the harbour of a Chriftian reft, 

He liu'd to new lerufalem a ftranger. 

But was at death free Cittizen profeft. 

With Chrift on croffe, gaining in three houres more 
Then ludas did in yeares for howers before. 



Mulier ecce Films Ums. 

.Oman true map of greefes, obiedl of woes, 
\Behold thy fonne, finnes heauy burden beares, 
774)/ vveepingeies, Sorrows right methode fhows, 
Sonne bath'd in blood, and Mother vvafhd in teares, 
A dying Sonne, repleat with fathers hate, 
A penfiue Mother moft difconfolate. 

Of all affedtions that the foule admits, 
On which loues fauours doe moft firmly build. 
That loue in place of fupreme foundneffe fits, 
Which is deriu'd from parent to the child, 

Then loffe of that muft needs proue heartieft greefe. 
That from the heart takes place and offfpring cheefe. 

If Dauid lou'd his Abfolon fo well, 

That he with weeping wifhd t'haue died for him, 

Who falfe and difobedient did rebell. 

Yet did his loue no whit the more abhorre him, 
Or reuerent Jacob, teares aboundant fhed. 
To heare his fonnes but faine their brother dead. 



Poems vp07i the Pafsion. 

If holy lob himfelfe fo patient bore, 
To giue meeke eare to many a greeuous croffe, 
Deftrudlion of his cattell, flockes, and flore, 
Vntill he heard his deereft childrens loffe, 
And then his greefes extreameft did abound, 
Renting his garments, falling on the ground. 

Needs muft (in mournfuU forrow's dire complaints) 
The bleffed Virgin farre excell all other, 
What foule (with dolours euer fo acquaints) 
As this mod carefull comfort wanting Mother, 
To fee her God, life, father, loue and fonne. 
By bitt'reft torments vnto death be donne. 

No earthly loue on fuch perfection grounded. 
But that the fame may be defedliue proued, 
Loue of the fonne to mother was vnbounded, 
Sonne of the mother, was the like beloued. 
All power of Angels, powreleffe only proues. 
To weigh or meafure thofe vnmeafur'd loues. 

Of loue, with woes by croffe fhe weping flood, 
There fending fighs to heav'n, and teares to ground. 
Of loue, with paines on croffe he ftreamed blood, 
There death he conquer'd, hell he did confound. 

Such was his loue that lou'd when we were hatefull. 
To die for loue, when fmne was mod vngratefull. 



Detis meus. detts 7ne^is, vt quid ^,^ 

y God({2!\di Chrifl) when God to God coplained, 
\My God, who am true God and perfed: man, 
IVhy haft thou my diftres'd eftate refrained, 
Thou doeft feuere fmnes imputation fcan, 
Forfakeii in this ftrait, thy felfe bereauing, 
Me to afflictions cruerft torments leaning. 

Vntaught (till now) was lefus to complaine, 
Though infinite the wrongs he vnder-went, 
He welcom'd euery torment, greefe, and paine, 
Afflictions could not mooue his difcontent, 

All gaue offence, which he imputes to none, 

Only his father now accus'd alone. 

When violence did with outrage apprehend him, 
His patient yeelding did moft meekely beare it, 
When blafphemies with taunts of fpight offend him. 
He filent feem'd as though he did not heare it. 
In all the furie they did execute, 
He ftood like lambe before the fhearer mute. 

F He 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

He not complain'd of Peter that denide him, 
Nor yet of ludas that mofl falfe betrayde him, 
Nor thofe in Pilats hall, that did deride him, 
Nor graceleffe lewes (his owne) that difobay'd him: 
But his complaint was of his father made, 
Not meant to thofe denide, condemn'd, betray'de. 

Gods angry wrath feuerely fet gainft fmne, 
(The wares that Sathan fold, man dearely bought) 
With loffe of grace the trafficke did beginne, 
Heau'ns loffe, foules death, hels dome eternall wrought. 
That wrath on Chrifts humanity abounded, 
Who only cur'd, what fmne had mortall wounded. 

As man threw fmne at God, as in defpight, 
And God caft plagues, on man reuenge to fall, 
The fmne wherewith man gainfl his God did fight. 
And punifhments God chaftned man withall. 

On Chrift (that ftood twixt wrath and finne) was laid, 
He could not fmne, yet fmners finne was made. 

He laid our forrowes burden on his fprite. 

When he indur'd his bitter agonie. 

He tooke our death on him, wounding deaths might. 

When he on croffe. Deaths conquerour did die. 
He vnderwent afflicftions heauiefi: loade. 
Reducing foules from hell, to heau'ns aboade. 



Thirft, lift word on Croffe our Sauiour fpake, 
Concluding lafl of greefes he fuffered, 
His laft complaint, thirft did for water make, 
His lafl requeft for that he vttered, 

His lafl torment was drinke of bitter gall, 

That cruelty offends his tafi; withall. 

By trauell once leauing ludea land, 
With wearie iourney through Samaria, 
He crau'd in Sichar at a womans hand, 
Her gift of water, his great thirft t'alay. 

While fhe on tearmes, delaies and hinderance finds, 

Delaies begotten by vnwilling minds. 

Yet after publicke in lerufalem. 
He did proclaime to all with thirfl at ftrife, 
That plenteoufly he had to fuccour them, 
With flowing waters to eternall life, 

Inuiting come, true comming, free attaine. 
That which who drinkes, fhall neuer thirft againe. 

F ij Such 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Such thirft-ftaunch riuers he to thirfly gaue, 
That ftreames of grace, heau'ns dew in foules did fhower: 
Yet for his owne thirft, water he did craue 
At Jacobs well, and at his dying hower. 
To come and drinke, he free inuites all firft, 
And at his laft, himfelfe complaines of thirft. 

As to our thirfty foules he tendereth 

His grace, againft all deadly thirft defence, 

So to his thirft, foules duty rendereth. 

The pureft water of obedience. 

There is in him, for which our wants do call, 
There is in vs, he will be feru'd withall. 

To corporall thirft ftrong Sampfon once did yeeld, 
Vntill the chaw-bone of an Affe fupplide him: 
And Sifava (that vanquifti'd loft the field) 
Complain'd of thirft, to her whofe tent did hide him: 
And holy Dmiid thirftie, water needing. 
Did long for Bethlem cefternes moft exceeding. 

But different farre foules thirft, from bodies is, 
Vnfatisfied with fprings of worldly taft, 
Grace gain'd by Chrift, doth only anfwere this, 
A fpirituall fubftance, craues the like repaft, 
Thofe foodleffe foules, famifht eternall pine, 
Which are vnfed by th'effence pure diuine. 



^Ven when the gaule of odious bitterneffe 
IWas offered to our Sauiour on a reed, 
^The bitter drinke of bitter vvickedneffe, 
The lewifh prefent to Chrifts thirfty need, 

To comfort foules his gracious words extended, 
And founding mercy, vttered All is ended. 

What tongue till then durfl fuch a fpeech deliuer? 
That all tooke end, which holy writ foretold, 
Only the tongue of fmnes true ranfome giuer, 
Was powrefull his owne mercies power t'vnfold. 
Holy of holies moft vprightly fpake, 
AlVs ended, ending life, finnes end to make. 

Not Datiid, Efay, Jeremy, Elias, 

Could in their times affirme fmne tooke conclufion, 

They prophecied alluding to Mefsias, 

That he (hould worke the viper fmnes confufion, 

And end his life, to end foule fmne, lifes killer, 

Of all predictions to be full fulfiller. 

F iij By 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

By vvhofe owne mouth (truths founded euidence) 
We heare finnes end, the old law fatisfied, 
How Mercy doth with luftice dome difpence, 
And how the Judges fonne hath qualified 
His fathers rigor, no way to be donne, 
But by th'obedience of Gods dying fonne. 

The word AWs ended, notice giues to all, 
By death of Chrift, the Law was in exemption, 
The Church began, the Synagogue did fall, 
And man obtained perfect full redemption, 
His reconcilement was with God effecl;ed 
To glories throne, by graces hand protected. 

High Myfterie, and deepe profound diuine. 
That God by man, for man fliould death fuftaine. 
As ftrange a fpeech, if humane wit define. 
He being man, fhould die and rife againe. 
Yet God and man, with God to end mans ftrife, 
From life to death, from death did rife to life. 

Our vlcers curing, captiue flate inlarging, 
From Sinnes infectious venome, Sathans gaile. 
Bonds of damnation canfeld, foules difcharging, 
Defcending heau'n, to be on yearth our baile 

At price of life, with blood bought and befriended, 
Sealing faluations truft, with All is ended. 



_ Pater in mamis Htas commendo 
^^ ^ Spirit 2 tm nieurn. 

.Ithblood-fpentwounds, euenatthepointtodie, 
The laft bequeft of heauens high teftator, 
'Was all eternities rich Legacie, 
His foule, the foule of mans true mediator, 
Vnto his Fathers hands he did commit, 
Yeelding to Death, by Death to vanquifh it. 

The Princely Phrophet on his dying bed, 
Gaue charge vnto his heire apparant fonne, 
To vvorke reuenge on martial 1 loabs head, 
For murdring deed by his offence foredone, 
T'abridge what nature for his date intended, 
And cut him off before his period ended. 

Including with reuenge of Abners death, 
The wrongs that Simei to his perfon did. 
When Abfoton purfued his fathers breath, 
Whofe affe became his hangman as he rid, 
And wretched Simei curfmg full of fpight, 
Caft ftones at Daitid, with mofh wrath he might. 



Poems vpon the Pa/sion. 

That teftament Reuenge fet hand vnto, 

Impofing vvifdomes tutored prince the taske, 

To execute what he was willed do 

For fheddino- blood, blood-fhedders blood doth aske, 
To Salomon this charge his father gaue, 
Let them not paffe in peace vnto their graite. 

How different Dauids from our Sauiours feemes? 

Whofe will contain'd reuenge for others ad: 

Chrift at his death forgiues, Tinners redeemes, 

Solicites pardon for a murdring fadl: 

As Danid dies with, Sonne let thent not Hue, 

So Chrifls yeelds breath with. Father tlmn forgitie. 

Firfl guiltleffe blood to God moft high difpleafmg, 
Was that iuft mans, which dide by th'hand of Qaine, 
Firft guiltleffe blood, Gods iuftice cheefe appeafmg, 
Was that moft righteous, whom the lewes haue flaine, 
And as the ones blood was a foules damnation, 
So was the others many foules faluation. 

The blood of Abel from earths bofome cri'de, 
And founded luflice, luflice, through the skies. 
The blood of lefus, at the hower he di'de, 
Vnto his father, Mercy, Mercy, cries. 
Whereby Gods title of reuenge till then, 
Turn'd gracious father to repentant men. 



The death of Deaths Ji7ines Par- 
don, and follies Ranfome. 

Sinfull foule, the caufe of lefus pafsion, 
Put forrowes on, and fighing view thy guilt, 
Bring all thy thoughts, fix the on meditation, 
weep drops of tears, for ftreams of blood chrift 
Summon thy foflred fins, felfe-hatched euils, (fpilt : 
And caft them low as hell, they are the deuils. 

Seat vertue riuall, where vfurping vice 
Had feaz'd for Sathan to poffeffe thy heart, 
And though the traitor flefh from grace intice, 
Yet yeeld thy fauiour his deere purchaft part. 

The greateft loue that heav'n or earth dooth know, 
Did heav'ns free-loue on hels bond-flaues beftow. 

He left his fathers glorious right-hand feat, 
To Hue euen where his earthly footftoole ftands, 
Vnmou'd thereto by our fubmiffe intreat, 
No fuite of clay obtain'd it at his hands. 

No power in vs, no humane will that fought it, 
It was his loue, grace freely giuen wrought it. 




Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

O loiie of foules, deaths vidlor, true life-giuer, 

What charitie did ouercome thee fo, 

To die, that man might be eternall liuer, 

Being thine aduerfe difobedient foe? 

For friends if one fhould die, were rarely much. 
But die for foes, the world affoords none fuch? 

An ignominious death, in fhames account, 
Of odious cenfure, and contempts difgrace, 
On Caluarie, a ftincking dunghill Mount, 
For murderers the common fatall place. 

There di'de the Angels brightneffe, God and man, 
There death was vanquifht, and true life began. 

Yet there began not lefus fuffering. 
Nor in the garden with his foules vexation: 
There he performd victorious conquering, 
His life was nothing els but ftintleffe pafsion. 
From cratch to croffe, hee trod a painefull path, 
Betwixt our guilt, and Gods reuengefull wrath. 

What paines, their paines to lefus not impart.^ 
What moment tortures want did he indure.^ 
What anguifli addes not to his greened heart .^ 
What minute was he forrowleffe, fecure.^ 

What age, wherein his troubles were negledled ? 

What people, but his death cheefly affe(il;ed ? 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

In eies he fuffred monefull fhowres of teares, 
His face had fpittings and difpightfull blowes, 
Blafphemous fpeech vpbraid his facred eares, 
Mofl loathfome carrion ftinckes entred his nofe, 
Gaule in his mouth, the holieft hands were bound, 
Hands, feet, heart, head, were nailed, pierc'd &crownd. 

From his birth-hower, vntill his life-loft blood. 
What moment paft wherein hee did not merite? 
What minute fcap'd imploiment vnto good, 
Who did implore his grace, and he deferre it? 
How painfully his preaching fpent the day. 
How watchfully his nights were houres to pray. 

Whom taught this Truth, that him for truth beleeued ? 

Though truth without his prefence ne're was knowne? 

With whom did he conuerfe and was vngreeued ? 

How ill intreated euen amongft his owne? 

Though foxe and bird could find both hole and neft, 
Where found his head, repofed place for reft? 

Pouertie hee indured in the manger, ^ 

Warre with the tempter in the wilderneffe. 
Exile in ^gypt, forc'd by tirants danger, 
And on the way o're-painfull wearineffe, 
In all his fpeech and adlions, contradidlions 
Laden with wrongs, burdned with dire afflidlions. 

G ij With 


Poems vpon the Pafsioji. 

With hungers fword food-giuer was acquainted, 
And that the ftone-prefenting deuill faw, 
At Jacobs well with thirft he wel-nie fainted, 
While pinching woman flood on tearmes to draw/ 

All wants and woes impos'd vpon him ftill, 

And his obedience fuffered euery ill. 

Traitor-led troopes by night did apprehend him, 
Haling him cruell to the iudgement hall. 
Where all inflided torments did offend him, 
And mockeries to greeue his foule withall, 

There fudge was iudg'd, king fcorned, prieft abus'd, 

And of all luft, the luft vniuflly vs'd. 

Thence to his death, with clamours, fhouts, and cries, 
Theeues at his fide, the torturing hangman by him, 
His croffe (his burden) borne before his eies, 
Hart-launcing Longius, the Centurion nie him, 
His friends aloofe inuiron'd round with foes, 
Thus vnto death, foules loue, fweet lefus goes. 

Vid:orioufly vpon the dunghill field, 
He manag'd combate with the roaring Lion, 
Old ferpent, death and hell at once did yeeld. 
All vanquiflit by triumphant lambe of Sion, 

Performing in that glorious bloodie fight. 

The euer conqueft of infernall might. 


«w.. ^ 77/^ wonders at Chrifts death, ^/^ 

.Hat inftant hower the worlds Redeemer di'de, 
jAnd breathed out his foule vpon the croffe, 
Heav'ns glorious lampe, abating all his pride, 
Bewail'd in blacke his murdred makers loffe, 
Turning his fplendant beames of gold, to droffe; 
The Moone like futed in a fable weed, 
Mourned for fmnes outragious bloody deed. 

When lofua (Ifraels valiant captaine) praid, 
And in his praier coniuring did command 
The firmaments bright eie ftand fhill, it ftaid 
Till he was viclor of the wickeds band, 
Waighting vpon Gods battaile then in hand, 
Yeelding the richeft treafure of his light, 
Lengthning the want of day with day-made night. 

But here, reflecting light to darkefome change, 
Shaming to fee what fhameleffe fmne had done, 
Was more admir'd to alter kind fo ftrange, 
Then when he ceas'd his pofting courfe to run, 

G iij Loue 


Poems vpon the Pafsion: 

Loue to Gods forces, his bright flaying vvonne, 
But now beholding Sathans power preuailing, 
He turn'd the day to night, in darkneffe wailing. 

At death of Chrifl, appear'd foure fignes of wonder, 
To euidence diuine and God-like might, 
The firft: The temples vaile did rent in funder, 
Next, Sunne and Moone extinguiflit both their light, 
Affoording darkneffe to blind lewifh fight: 

Then flintie ftones deuiding, part in twaine; 

And Saints from graues reuiv'd to life againe. 

What faithleffe lew or graceleffe Atheift can 
With impious tongue, found out blafphemous breath, 
Affirming Chrift to be but only Man, 
VVhofe dietie, wrought wonders after death, 
Wonders in heauen, ftrange miracles on earth? 
Of each beholders heart, feare tooke poffefsion, 
And taught the Pagan captain Truths confefsion. 

Thou canfl not fay thofe workes were Magickes art, 
From flaunders charge, Chrifts power diuine is free, 
His foule was fled, and did before depart, 
His liueleffe bodie euery eie did fee. 
No charming words by dead tongues vttred be, 
Thou muft of force confeffe true God-head by it. 
Or fay that Mallice wilfull doth denie it. 



The Ftmerals of lefits. a n^r^t 

.Hen lofephs fuite had got the ludges leaue, 
To take fweet lefus from the bloodie croffe, 
' VVhofe bleffed life lewes blindneffedid bereaue, 
To our eternall gaine, their endleffe loffe: 
Chrifts night-difciple aidfull did agree, 
To take his bodie from that guiltie tree. 

The Virgine mother cheefe in mournefull teares, 
With holy Maries twaine that ftintleffe wept, 
To Caluarie both fheet and odours beares, 
There mufi; the facred funerall be kept, 

Who hearts did loue, him with their feet they fought, 
Teares in their eies, hands myrrhe and aloes brought. 

Their greefes and labours they deuide in parts. 
Partaking each t'affoord fome needfull thing. 
True faith and loue, was feated in their hearts, 
On fhoulders ladders, amies the fhroud doe bring, 
Their hands haue ointments, eies with teares abounds, 
Teares well imploi'd to wafh his bloodie wounds. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

With tired fteps they ouertooke the place, 
Where ftore of weeping dew moiflned the ground, 
The Sunne was hid, nights darke approcht apace, 
Greefes did furprife, dolours increafe abound, 
Whom infidels nail'd vp, did pierce and crowne, 
Faithfull, from Croffe, ad: holy taking downe. 

Before the fame (to figne a perfect zeale) 
They cafi: themfelues fo low as earth gaue leaue, 
In reuerence of thofe wounds that only heale 
All feauer'd foules, blood-falue from thence receaue; 
Which worfhip well perform'd, they fighing rife. 
And towards the croffe all guide plaint-pouring eies. 

The honourable two old aged men, 
Aduis'd the reft refpedt what fcanting time 
Remain'd to annoint, and fhroud, and burie, then 
Their ladders raifmg, vp the croffe they clime; 
Teares, fighs, and fobs, defcend ech ftep they goe, 
While eies (wet Orators) repli'de below. 

On Jacobs ladder ioifull Angels fmg, 
No iarre their heav'nly muficke did reftraine, 
On lofcpJis ladder teares to top they bring, 
And mournefull fobs fend forrowes downe againe, 
Thofe heav'nly quires partake no tunes like this, 
Chrifts bitter death, was faultie mans amiffe. 



Poems vpon the Pafsmi. 

When hands and feet they carefull did vn-naile, 
Letting the body downe conieal'd in gore, 
This was the obiedt, Vifage wan and pale: 
Eies turnd in heady his fle/Ji all rent and tore, 

Scull boar ed t J irottgh, t homes fpurting out hisbraines, 
Bones out of ioint, and full of broken values. 

Vpon the ground the holy corpes being laid, 
Mod reuer'nt where the fhrouding fheet was fpred, 
His bleffed Mother full of woes difmaid, 
Renew'd her plaints with fhowers of teares fhe fned/ 
Whom ludas fold for thirty pence aliue, 
To buy him dead, her pearled drops did flriue. 

The taske of Sorrowes equall to deuide, 
At lefus head laments his penfme mother, 
lofeph with Nichodenms at one fide. 
And both the Maries place them at the other, 

Thus bout the mangled corpes thefe mourners ftands 
With teares in eies, with ointments in their hands. 

When kneeling round, the bodie they inclofe, 
Prepar'd with baulme, and readie to annoint it, 
Viewing blew wales, that came of lewifh blowes. 
Rupture of nailes, wan flefh, how they difioint it: 

Compafsion, pittie, loue, with true remorfe, 

Inuited all their eies to wafh the corfe. 

H Their 


Poems vpon tJie PafsioJi. 

Their knees with humble feruice loAvly bowing, 
Their hands embaulme him, wounded, rent and tore, 
Their eies no mangled part vnwafht allowing, 
Their hearts with worfhip, God and man adore, 
Both knees and hands, with hearts and watry eies, 
All forrow laden, tir'd with fighs and cries. 

For deepe-made wounds, and torturing cruell blowes. 
No fmall expence of ointments could fufhfe: 
But bountie on that holy worke beftowes 
Plentie of odours in fuch liberall wife, 
Their baulme to couer him inough had bin, 
And teares might ferue to haue baptis'd him in. 

His glorious bodie fhrouded in the fheet 
On which to be embaulmed they did lay him, 
With binding clothes, wrapt whole from head to feet, 
To be inter'd, his feruant Saints conuay him 
Only in armes good lefus dead they haue. 
Within their hearts he Hues being borne to graue. 

O mournefull trod, where comforts paths are failing. 
Deaths bed muft haue eternall life in keeping, 
lofepJi goes fighing, Magdalen bewailing, 
Ther's loJin laments, and Nicliodenius weeping. 
The bleffed virgins eies like fountaines run, 
Left wo full widdow to her murdred fon. 



Poems vpo)i the Pa/sion. 

What pens report can tell her forrowing heart 
That faw her fonne, the only of her vvombe, 
Before her eies pay death, rnans foule defert, 
And with her armes afsift him to the tombe ? 

What forrowes mappe like forrow ere exprefl? 

What eies like teares, what teares like greefes profeft. 

Her liquid eies ftroue each t'exceed the other, 
By fighs her mone, by teares her woe appeares, 
She weepes, yet is the mirth of heav'ns mother, 
Virgine in office, young in tender yeares. 

Filled with grace, eternities Princeffe, 

Excelling in perfe(5lions holineffe. 

O Sunne whofe fliine is heav'ns eternall bright, 
Of funerall pompe why art thou deftitute, 
Borne to thy graue, without one candles light, 
Or Clergie, night precedent inftitute: 

Thy birth was frniple, void of worldly pride; 

And in thy buriall, coft was laid afide. 

Oh heav'ns riches, mercies fountaine head, 
When thou waft borne, no houfe thy parents haue, 
Thy life was poore, thy death without a bed. 
Thy buriall was in lofepJis borrowed graue. 

Thou didft indure our paines, fmnes purchafe, hell; 

Thou louedft foules, loft foules, fo wondrous well. 

H ij Though 


Poems vpon the Pafsioii. 

Though Salomon was Ifraels crowne fucceffour, 
And gain'd his kingly fathers ftate and throne; 
Of Dauids mercy feemes he no pofleffour, 
Funerall cod, or teares we read of none: 
But Scriptures recommend the honour done 
In Jacobs buriall, by his gratefull fonne. 

The great Prieft Simon caufed to bee made, 

A monument of curious carued ftones, 

Wherein his bodie after life was laid, 

And eke his brethren Machabes their bones; 
But tombe for Chrift was in his life vnknowne, 
And for him dead his mother knew of none. 

No earthly care, foules loue to him was fweeter, 
When vnto lohn the virgine was commended, 
His enemies to Mercie, church to Peter, 
His foule to Father, faying All is ended : 
No fpeech he vs'd, nor any order gaue 
For coftly i"unerals or a fumptuous graue. 

With greefes, attaining to the garden place. 
From which oft ftaies to weepe and wipe did let, 
Penfiue diftreft, in moft perplexed cafe, 
The flirouding fheet all moiftned, flacke and wet 
(Not with the dew defcending from the skies) 
With teares that rained from their fhouring eies. 



Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Oh glorious hearbes this garden plot did beare, 
Oh holy ground trod in this iournies paines, 
Not for the oile of Oliues growing there, 
But fanctified by blood from lefus vaines, 

O earth whereon true loue and greefes combine, 
Blood from the fonne, teares from the mothers eyen. 

The tombe prepar'd wherein hee fhould bee laid. 
From which although great paine the ftone remooued, 
Yet farre exceed the fuites intreatie made 
Before his mother yeelds her deere beloued. 
Still they folicite, ftill her loues denie him, 
Vntill on knees with price of teares, they buy him. 

The brothers fonne intreats his holie aunt, 
Perfuafme reafoning humbly dooth befeech, 
Times breuitie, good Ladie, mooues your graunt, 
Let eies doe more with teares then tongues with fpeech : 
Vpon detaining, now no longer ftand, 
Darke fable night leads dangers by the hand. 

If foes fhould wrong vs, bootleffe we to ftriue, 
How can poore three our Lords dead corfe defend, 
Twelue could not guard him when he was aliue, 
Giue licenfe this laft feruice take an end. 

Much troubles ceafe, when by free will is done. 
That which conflraint well nere difpence to fhunne. 

H iij Thou 


Poems vpon the Pafsion. 

Thou friend of God incline to vs at length, 
Let our vveake words o'recome thy loues the ftronger, 
Our hearts want comforts, all our members flrength, 
Our teares are fpent, eies dri'de can weepe no longer 
Sorrow that holds vs for her lawfull prize, 
Hath left not one poore teare to taske our eies. 

Wearie with importunitie and weeping, 
A moft vnwilling leaue the Virgine gaue, 
Yeelding her fonne to the fepulchres keeping, 
Her fweeteft loue to deaths moft bitter graue, 

Like as from Golgotha, they brought him thether. 
All helpe, all figh, all put him in together. 

Thus being laid into his bed of ftone, 
By liquid eies, and hearts of forrowing flefh, 
Inftead of earth their teares were poured on, 
A laft farewell greefes cefternes yeeld afrefh: 
There left they lefus that fmnes burden beares, 
Wept, wrapt, annointed, bath'd in ftreames of teares. 







With a new Moriffco, daunced by 
feauen Sa^yres,vpon the bottome 

oiDiogines Tubbe. 


Printed by ^^. WhiteiorW.F. 




TIJ' Vmours, is late croivjid king of Caiieeleres, 

^ ^ Fantaftique-folHes, gracd with comino7i fmioiir : 

Ciuilitie, hatJi feriicd out his yccres, 

And fcornetJi noiv to ivaitc on Good-behauour. 

Gallants, like Richard tJie vfurper, fivaggcr, 

That had his hand continnall on his dagger. 

Fafliions is Jiill confort luith new fond JJiapes, 
And feedeth dayly vpon flrangc difguife: 
WefJievv onr felues the imitating Apes 
Of all the toyes that Strangers heads denife; 
For titer's no habitc of hell-hatehed finne, 
That we delis^ht not to be clothed in. 

Some fweare, as though they Starres from heauen could piil. 
And all their fpeach is poynted with thejiabbe, 

When all men know it isfome coward gull, 
That is but champion to a Shorditch drabbe; 

Whofe feather is his heads lightnes-proclaymer, 
AlthougJi he feeme fame mightie monfter tamer. 

A 2. Epi- 

To the Gentlemen Readers. 

Epicurifme, cares not /low lie lines, 
But Jlill purfiietJi brutijli Appetite. 
Difdaine, regardes not zvhat ahiife he giues; 
Careleffe of ivronges, and vnregarding right. 
Selfe-louc {they fay) to felfe-eonceite is zued, 
By which bafe match are zglie vices bred. 

Pride, rends like the royfling Prodigall, 
Streching his credite that his parfsc-flringes cracke, 
Vntill ill fame difircsfull layle lie fall, 
Which zuore of late a Lordfhip on his backe: 
Where he till death mufl lie in paiujie for debt, 
" Griefes night is neare, when pleafures funne is fet. 

Vaunting, JiatJi got a niigJitie tJiundring voyce, 
Lookifig that all men fliould applaudc his fonndes 
His deedes are finguler, his ivordes be choyce ; 
On earth his equall is not to be founde. 
Thus Vertu's Jiid, with Follies iuggling mifi, 
A nd /lee's no man, t/iat is no Humourifl. 



f~^ Ood honejl Poets, let me crane a boone, 
^"^ That y OIL zvoiild write, I do not care Jiozv foone, 
Againjl the bajlard Jmmours Jiozverly bred^ 
In euery 7nad brain d, ivit-ivorne, giddie head: 
At fiich grofse follies do not fit and wincke, 
Belabour tJiefe fame Gidles zvitJi pen and incke. 
You fee foine striue for f aire hand-writing fame, 
As Peeter Bales his figne can prone the fame, 
Gracing his credite zuith a golden Pen : 
I woidd haue VoQts prone more taller men: 
In perfeSl Letters refted his contention, 
But yoiirs coiifi/Vs in Wits cJioyce rare inuention. 
Will yoic fiand f pending your Inuentions treaftre, 
To teach Stage parrets fpeake for pennie pleafnre, 
While you your felues like muficke founding Lutes 
fretted and ftrunge, gaine them their filken futes. 
Leaue Cupids cut, Womens face flatf ring praife, 
Loues fubie6l growes too thredbare now adayes. 
Change Venus Swannes, to zurite of Vulcans Geefe, 
And you fJiall merite Golden pennes a peece. 


A 3. 

Mirth pleafetli fome ; to otJiars tts offence: 
Sojne zi'iJJi f hanc follies tolde; fonie dijlike that: 
Some comcnd plaine conceites, fome profound fence: 
And mofl ivould haue, themf clues know not what. 
Then he that ivould pleafe all, and him felfe too. 
Takes more in hand, tJien he is like to doo. 



MOnfieur Domingo is a skilfull man, 
For much experience he hath lately got, 
Prouing more Phificke in an Alehoufe can. 
Then may be found in any Vintners pot. 
Beere he proteftes is fodden and refin'd, 
But this he fpeakes, being fmgle penny lyn'd. 

For when his Purfe is fwolne but fix-pence bigge. 

Why then he fweares ; Now by the Lord I thinke, 

All Beere in Europe is not worth a figge : 

A cuppe of Clarret is the onely drinke. 

And thus his praife from Beere to Wine doth goe, 

Euen as his Purfe in pence doth ebbe and flowe. 

A 4. 




TlJAng him bafc gull; He ftabbe him by the Lord, 

If he prefume to fpeake but halfe a word : 
He paunch the villian with my Rapiers poynt, 
Or heaw him with my Fatchon ioynt by ioyiit. 
Through both his cheeks my Ponniard he fhal haue 
Or Mincepie-like He mangle out the flaue. 
Aske who I am, you whorfon freife-gowne patch .^ 
Call mee before the Conftable, or Watch ? 
Cannot a Captaine walkc the Oueenes high-way? 
Swones, Who de fpeake to? Know ye villions, ha? 
You drunken peffants, run's your tongs on wheeles? 
Long you to fee your guttes about your heeles? 
Doeft loue me Tom? let go my Rapier then, 
Perfwade me not from killing nine or ten : 
I care no more to kill them in braueado, 
Then for to drinke a pipe of Trinedado. 
My minde to patience neuer will reftore-mee, 
Vntill their blood do gufli in ftreames before-mee. 
Thus doth Sir Launcdot in his drunken flagger, 
Sweare, curfe, & raile, threaten, protefb, & fwagger: 
But be'ing next day to fober anfwere brought, 
Hees not the man can breede fo bafe a thought. 



EPIG. 3. 

When Thrafo meets his friend, he fweares by God, 
Vnto his Chamber he fliall welcome be : 
Not that hee'le cloy him there with roft or fod, 
Such vulgar diet with Cookes fliops agree : 
But hee'le prefent mofl kinde, exceeding franke 
The beft TabaccOy that he euer dranke. 

Such as himfelfe did make a voyage for, 

And with his owne hands gatherd from the ground ; 

All that which other fetch, he doth abhor. 

His, grew vpon an Hand neuer found. 

Oh rare compound, a dying Horfe to choke. 

Of EngliJJi fyer, and of India fmoke. 



EPIG. 4. 

Who feekes to pleafe all men each way, 
And not himfelfe ofTende, 
He may begin his worke to day, 
But God knowes when hee'le ende. 




EPIG. 5. 

Alas, Delfridus keepes his bed God knowes, 
Which is a figne his worfhips very ill: 
His griefe beyond the grounds of Phificke goes ; 
No Do6lor that comes neare it with his skill, 
Yet doth he eate, drinke, talke, & fleepe profound, 
Seeming to all mens Judgements healthfull found. 

Then geffe the caufe he thus to bed is drawne. 
What? thinke you fo; may fuch a happe procure it? 
Well; fayth t'is true, his Hofe are out at pawne, 
A Breetchleffe chaunce is come, he muft indure it: 
His Hofe to Brokers layle committed are, 
His fmguler, and onely, Veluet payre. 



EPIG. 6. 

Diogifies one day through Athens went, 
With burning Torch in Sun-fhine : his intent 
Was (as he fayd) fome honeft man to finde : 
For fuch were rare to meete, or he was blinde. 
One late, might haue done well like light t'haue got 
That fought his Wife; met her, and knew her not: 
But ftay, cry mercy, fhe had on her Maske, 
How could his eyes performe their fpying taske.^ 
T'is very true, t'was hard for him to doo. 
By Sunne, and Torch ; let him take Lant-home too. 




EPIG. 7. 

Speake Gentlemen, what fhall we do to dayf 

Drinke fome braue health vpon the Dutch caroufe.' 

Or fhall we go to the Globe and fee a Playf 

Or vifit Shor ditch, for a bawdie houfef 

Lets call for Gardes or Dice, and haue a Game, 

To fit thus idle, is both fmne and fhame. 

This fpeakes Sir Reuell, furnifht out with Fafhion, 
From difh-crown'd Hat, vnto th' Shooes fquare toe. 
That haunts a Whore-houfe but for recreation. 
Playes but at Dice to connycatch, or fo. 
Drinkes drunke in kindnes, for good fellowfhip: 
Or to the Play goes but fome Purfe to nip. 




EPIG. 8. 

Sir gall-lade, is a Horfeman e'ry day, 

His Bootes and Spurres and Legges do neuer part: 

He rides a Horfe as pasfing cleane away, 

As any that goes Tyburne-warde by cart : 

Yet honefbly he payes for Hacknyes hyer: 

But hang them lades, he fell's them when they tyer. 

He liues not like Diogines, on Rootes : 

But prooues a Mince-pie gueft vnto his Hoft, 

He fcornes to walke in Panics without his Bootes. 

And fcores his dyet on the Vitlers poft : 

And when he knowes not where to haue his dinner 

He fafles, and fweares, A glutton is a fmne. 




EPIG. 9. Drudo. 

This Gentleman hath ferued long in Frainice, 
And is returned filthy full of French, 
In fingle combat, being hurt by chaunce, 
As he was clofely foyling at a Wench : 
Yet hot alarmes he hath endur'd good ftore, 
But neuer in like pockie heate before. 

He had no fooner drawne, and ventred ny-her. 
Intending onely but to haue a bout, 
When fhe his Flaske aud Touch-boxe fet on fyer, 
And till this hower the burning is not out. 
Judge, was not valour in this Martiall wight. 
That with a fpit-fier Serpent fo durft fight. 




E P I G. 10. In Meritricern. 

TI^Ayth Gentleman, you moue me to offence, 
In comming to me with vnchaft pretence. 
Haue I the lookes of a lafciuious Dame, 
That you fhould deeme me fit for wantons game.^ 
I am not fhee will take luftes finne vpon-her. 
He rather die, then dimme chaft glorious honour. 
Temp't not mine eares; an grace of Chrift I meane 
To keepe my honeft reputation cleane." 
My hearing let's no fuch lewd found come in, 
My fenfes loath to furfet on fweete fmne. 
Reuerfe your minde, that goes from grace aflray, 
And God forgiue you, with my hart I pray. 
The Gallant notes her words, obferues her frown's. 
Then drawes his purfe, & lets her view his crown's, 
Vowing, that if her kindnes graunt him pleafure, 
Shee fhalbe Miftris to commaund his treafure. 
The ftormes are calm'd, the guft is ouer-blowne. 
And fhe replyes with : Yours, or not her owne. 
Defiring him to cenfure for the beft, 
Twa's but her tricke to try if men do ieft : 
Her Loue is lock'd where he may picke the truncke. 
Let Singer iudge if this be not a puncke. 





Polletique Peeter meetes his friend a fhore, 
That came from Seas but newly tother day: 
And giues him French embracements by the fcore, 
Then followes: Dicke, Haft made good voyage, fay? 
But hearing Richards fhares be poore and ficke, 
Peeter ha's hafte, and cannot drinke with Dicke. 

Well, then he meetes an other Caualeere, 
Whom he falutes about the Knees and Thighes : 
welcome fweet lames, now by the Lord what cheere 
Ner'e better Peeter, We haue got riche prize. 
Come, come (fayes Peeter) eu'en a welcome quart, 
For by my fayth, weele drinke before wee part. 

Or thus: 
Fayth, we muft drinke, that's flat, before we part. 





EPIG. 12. 

Fine Phillip comes vnto the Barbers fhopp, 
Wheer's nittie lockes muft fufifer reformation. 
The Chayre and Cufhion entertaine his flopp: 
The Barber craues to know his Worfhips fafhion. 
His will is, Shauen; for his beard is thin, 
It was fo lately banifh'd from his chin. 

But fhaueing oft will helpe it, he doth hope, 
And therfore for the fmooth-face cut he calles : 
Then fie; thefe cloathes are wafht Avith common 
Why doft thou vfe fuch ordnarie balles.'' (fope. 
I fcorne this common trimming like a Boore, 
Yet with his hart he loues a common whoore. 




EPIG. I 3. 

Signieiir Fantastike. 

I fcorue to meet an enemie in feeelde, 
Except he be a Souldier: (by this light) 
I Hkewife fcorne, my reafon for to yeelde : 
Yea further, I do well nigh fcorne to fight 
Moreouer, I do fcorne to be fo vaine, 
To drawe my Rapier, and put vp againe. 

I eke do fcorne to walke without my man, 
Yea, and I fcorne good morrow and good deane: 
I alfo fcorne to touch an Ale-houfe cann, 
Therto I fcorne an ordinarie Oueane. 
Thus doth he fcorne, difdainfull, proude, and grim, 
All but the Foole only, he fcornes not him. 

B 2. 




EPIG. 14. 

Some do account it golden lucke, 
They may be Widdow-fped, for mucke. 
Boyes on whofe chinnes no downe appeares, 
Marry olde Croanes of threefcore yeares : 
But they are fooles to Widowes cleaue, 
Let them take that which Maydes do leaue. 



EPIG. I 5. 

Amorous Aujiin fpendes much Balleting, 

In rimeing Letters, and loue Sonnetting. (her, 

She that loues him, his Ynckehorne fliall be paint- 

And with all Venus tytles hee'le acquaint her: 

Vowing fhe is a perfe6l Angell right, 

When fhe by waight is many graines too light : 

Nay all that do but touch her with the ftone. 

Will be depof'd that Angell fhe is none. 

How can he proue her for an Angell thenf 

That proues her felfe a Diuell, tempting men. 

And draweth many to the fierie pit. 

Where they are burned for their en'tring it. 

I know no caufe wherefore he tearmes her fo, 

Vnleffe he meanes fhee's one of them below, 

Where Lucifer, chiefe Prince doth domineere: 

If fhe be fuch, then good my hartes ftand cleere, 

Come not within the compaffe of her flight. 

For fuch as do, are haunted with a fpright. 

This Angell is not noted by her winges. 

But by her tayle, all full of prickes and ftinges. 

And know this luftblind Louer's vaine is led. 

To prayfe his Diuell, in an Angels fted. 

B 3. G alius 


EPIG. I 6. 

Gallus will haue no Barbour prune his beard, 
Yet is his chin cleane fhauen and vnh'ear'd. 
How comes he trymmed, you may aske me than? 
His Wenches do it with their warming-pan. 



EPIG. 17. 

When Caitalero Rake-hell is to rife 

Out of his bed, he capers light and heddy. 

Then wounds he fweares : you arant whore he cries 

Why what's the caufe that breakfaft is not reddyf 

Can men feede like Camelions, on the ayerf 

This is the manner of his morning prayer, 

Well, he fweares on, vntill his breakefaft comes, 
And then with teeth he falles to worke apace : 
Leaning his Boy a banquet all of crummes. 
Difpatch you Roague : my Rapier, thats his grace. 
So foorth he walkes, his ftomacke muft goe fhift. 
To dine and fuppe abroad, by deed of guift. 





EPIG. i8. 

A vvofull exclamation late I heard, 

Wherewith Tabacco takers may be feard : 

One at the poynt with pipe and leafe to part, 

Did vow Tabacco worfe then death's blacke dart; 

And prou'd it thus: You know (quoth he) my friends 

Death onely ftabbes the hart, and fo life endes : 

But this fame poyfon, fteeped India weede, 

In head, hart, lunges, doth foote & copwebs breede 

With that he gafp'd, and breath'd out fuch a fmoke 

That all the ftanders by were like to choke. 




EPIG. 19. 

Cacus would gladly drinke, but wants his Purfe, 
Nay, wanteth money; which is ten times worfe: 
For as he vowes himfelfe, he hath not feene 
In three dayes fpace the pi6lure of the Queene. 
Yet if he meete a friend neare Tauerne figne, 
Straight he intreates him take a pint of Wine, 
For he will giue it, that he will, no nay. 
What will he giue.? the other leaue to pay. 
He calleth : Boy, fill vs the tother quart, 
I will beftow it eu'en with my hart. 
Then doth he diue into his floppes profound, 
Where not a poore port-cullice can be found. 
Meane while his friend difchargeth all the wine: 
Stay, fbay (quoth he) or well; next fhal be mine. 




EPIG 02. 

Francke in name, and Francke by nature, 
Fraiincis is a moft kinde creature : 
Her felfe hath fuffered manie a fall, 
In ftriueing how to pleafure all. 




EPIG. 2 I. 

Soto can prooue, fuch as are drunke by noone, 
Are long-liu'd men ; the pox he can as foone. 
Nay, heare his reafon ere you do condemne, 
And if you finde it foolifh, hiffe and hemme. 
He faies, Good blood is euen the Hfe of man ; 
I graunt him that; (faie you) well go-to than. 
More drinke, the more good blood Oh thats a lie; 
The more you drinke, the fooner drunke fay I. 
Now he protefts you do him mightie wrong. 
Swearing a man in drinke, is three men ftrong: 
And he will pawne his head againft a pennie. 
One right madd drunke, will brawle & fight with 
Well, you replie: that argument is weake, (anie. 
How can a Drunkard brawle, that cannot fpeake? 
Or how can he vfe weapon in his hand, 
Which cannot guide his feete to goe or ftandf 
Harke what an oath the drunken flaue doth fweare 
He is a man by that, a man may heare. 
And when you fee him ftagger, reele, and winke, 
He is a man and more; I by this drinke. 




EPIG. 2 2. 

When figneur Sacke &■ S^iger drinke-drown'd reeles 

He vowes to heaw the fpurr's from's fellows heeles 

When caUing for a quart of Charnico, 

Into a louing league they prefent grow: 

Then inftantly vpon a cuppe or twaine, 

Out Poniardes goe, and to the flabbe agame. 

Friendes vpon that, they drinke, and fo imhrace: 

Straight bandy Daggers at each others face. 

This is the humour of a madd drunke foole, 

In Taueme pots that keepes his Fenceing-fchole. 




EPIG. 23. 

Cornutus was exceeding ficke and ill, 

Pain'd as it feemed chiefely in his hed: 

He cal'd his friendes, meaning to make his will ; 

Who found him drunke, with hofe & fhooes a bed 

To whom he fayd: Oh good my Maifters fee, 

Drinke with his dart hath all be ftabbed mee. 

I here bequeath, if I do chaunce to die, 
To you kinde freinds, and bon companions all, 
A pound of good Tabacco, fweet, and drie, 
To drinke amongft you, at my Funerall: 
Befides, a barrell of the beft flrong Beere, 
And Pickle-herrings, for to domineere. 




EPIG. 24. 

Wee men, in many faultes abound, 

But two, in women can be found: 

The worft that from their fex proceedes, 

Is naught in wordes, and naught in deedes. 




EPIG. 25. 

Bid me go fleepef I fcorne it with my heeles, 
I know my felfe as good a man as thee. 
Let goe mine Arme I fay, lead him that reeles. 
I am a right good fellow; doft thou feef 
I know what longes to drinking, and I can 
Abufe my felfe afwell as any man. 

I care no more for twentie hunderd pound, 
(Before the Lord) then for a very ftraw. 
He fight with any hee adoue the ground. 
Tut, tell not mee whats what ; I know the law. 
Rapier and Dagger: hey, a kingly fight. 
He now try falles with any, by this light. 




EPIG. 26. 

Behold, a moft accomplish'd Caualeere, 

That the world's Ape of Fashions doth appeare, 

Walking the ftreets, his humors to difclofe, 

In the French Doublet, and the Germane Hofe : 

The Muffes Cloake, Spanish Hat, Toledo blade, 

Italian rufte, a Shooe right Flemish made, 

Like Lord of Misrule, where he comes hee'le reuel 

And lie for wagers with the lying'ft diuell. 



EPIGRAMS. Epig. 27. 

Aske Humors why a Feather he doth wearef 

It is his humor (by the Lord) heele fweare. 

Or what he doth with fuch a Horfe-taile lockef 

Or why vpon a Whoore he fpendes his ftockef 

He hath a Humor doth determine fo. 

Why in the Stop-throate fafhion doth he go, 

With Scarfe about his necke? Hat without band? 

It it is his humor, fweete fir vnderftand. 

What caufe his Purfe is fo extreame diftreft, 

That often times t'is fcarcely penny bleflf 

Onely a Humor: If you quefhion why? 

His tongue is nere vnfurnifli'd with a lye : 

It is his Humor too he doth proteft. 

Or why with Serjants he is fo opprefl. 

That hke to Ghoftes they haunt him erie day? 

A rafcall Humor, doth not loue to pay. 

Obie6l, why Bootes and Spurres are flill in feafonf 

His Humor anfweres: Humor is the reafon. 

If you perceiue his wittes in wetting fhrunke, 

It commeth of a Humor, to be drunke, 

When you behould his lookes pale, thin, and poore, 

Th' occfion is, his Humor, and a Whore: 

And euery thing that he doth vndertake. 

It is a vaine, for fenceleffe Humors fake. 

C. Three 



EPIG. 2 

Three high-way ftanders, haueing cros-leffe curffe 
Did greete my friend with, Sir giue vs your purffe: 
Though he were true-man, they agreed in one: 
For purffe & coyne betwixt them foure was none. 




EPIG. 29. 

A Gentlewoman of the dealing trade, 

ProcLir'd her owne fweete pidlure to be made : 

Which being done, fhe from her worde did flippe. 

And would not pay full due for workmanfhippe. 

The Painter fwore fhe nere fliould haue it foe, 

She bad him keepe it; and away did goe. 

He cholericke, and mightie difcontent, 

Straight tooke his pencell and to worke he went : 

Makeing the Dog fhe held, a grim Cattes face, 

And hung it in his flioppe, to her difgrace. 

Some of her friends that faw it, to her went, 

In iefbing maner, afkeing what fhe ment. 

To haue her pi6lure hang where gazers fwarme, 

Holding a filthy Catte within her arme. 

She in a fhamefull heate in haft did hie, 

The Painter to content and fatiffie : 

Right glad to giue a French Crowne for his paine, 

To turne her Catte, into a Dog againe. 





EPIG. 30. 

When Tarlton clown'd it in a pleafant vaine, 
And with conceites, did good opinions gaine 
Vpon the Stage, his merry humors fhop. (flop. 

Clownes knew the Clowne, by his great clownifli 
But now th'are gull'd, for prefent fafliion fayes, 
Dicke Tarltons part, Gentlemens breeches playes: 
In euery flreete where any Gallant goes. 
The fwagg'ring Sloppe, is Tarltons clownifh hofe. 




EPIG. 3 I. 

To Lutius. 
One newlie prafliz'd in Astronomie, 
That neuer dealt in weather-witt before : 
Would fcrape (forfooth) acquaintance of the skie, 
And by his arte, goe knocke at heauen dore. 
Meane while a Scholler in his ftudie flippes, 
And taught his Wife skill in the Moones eclippes. 

Next night, that freind perfwads him walke alone 
Into the fielde, to gather ftarres that fell: 
To mix them with Philofophers rare ftone 
That begets gold : he likt the motion well, 
And went to watch, where ftarres dropt verie thin, 
But raine fo fhour'd, it wet his foole-cafe skin. 





EPIG. 32. 

What gallant's that whofe oaths flie through mine 
How like a lord oi Plntoes court he fweares: (eares? 
How braue in fuch a baudie houfe he fought, 
How rich his emptie purfe is outfide wrought. 
How Duch-man-like he fwallows downe his drink 
How fwccte he takes Tabacco till he ftinke: 
How loftie fprited he difdaines a Boore, 
How faithfuU harted he is to a ( .) 

How cocke-taile proude he doth his head aduaunce 
How rare his fpurres do ring the moris-daunce. 
Now I prorell, by Miftris Sitfans fanne, 
He and his boy, will make a proper man. 



EPIGRAMS. Epig. 33. 

Laugh good my Maifters, if you can intend it, 
For yonder comes a Foole, that will defend it : 
Saw you a verier Affe in all your life, 
That makes himfelfe a packe-horfe to his wifei' 
I would his nofe where I could wifh, were warme, 
For carrying Pearle, fo prettie vnder's arme, 
Pearle his wiues Dog, a prettie fweete-fac'd curre, 
That barkes a nights at the leaft fart doth fturre, 
Is now not well, his colde is fcarcely broke, 
Therfore good hisband wrap him in thy cloake: 
And fweete hart, preethee helpe me to my Maske, 
Holde Pearle but tender, for he hath the laske. 
Here, take my muffe; and do you heare good man/" 
Now giue me Pearle, and carrie you my Fanne. 
Alacke poore Pearle, the wretch is full of paine, 
Hisband, take Pearle; giue me my Fanne againe, 
See how he quakes : faith I am like to weepe, 
Com to me Pearle: my Scarfe good hisband keepe, 
To be with me I know my Puppie loues. 
Why Pearle, I faie: hisband take vp my Gloues. 
Thus goodman Idiot thinkes himfelfe an Earle, 
That he can pleafe his wife, and carrie Pearle: 
But others iudge his ftate to be no higher, 
Then a Dogges yeoman, or fome pippin Squier. 

C 4. What's 



EPIG. 34. 

What's he that fits and takes a nappe, 
Fac'd like the North winde of a mappe, 
And fleeping, to the wind doth nod? 
Tis Bacchus coofcn, BelHe-god. 




EPIG. 35. 

Seuerjis is extreame in eloquence, 

In perfum'd words, plung'd ouer head and eares, 

He doth create rare phrafe, but rarer fence, 

Fragments of Latme, all about he beares. 

Vnto his feruingman alias his boy, 

He vtters fpeach exceeding quaint and coy. 

Deminitiue, and my defe6liue flaue, 

Reach my corpes couerture imediately: 

My pleafures pleafure is, the fame to haue, 

T'infconfe my perfon from frigiditie. 

His man beleeues all's Welch, his Maifler fpoke, 

Till he rayles English ; Roage goe fetch my cloke. 




EPIG. 36. 

Why fhould the Mercers trade, a Satten fute, 
With Cookes greafe be fo wickedly pokite.^ 
The reafon is, the fcandall and defame 
Grew, that a greafie flouen weres the fame. 




EPIG. 37. 
An honeft Vicker, and a kinde confort, 
That to the Alehoufe friendly would refort, 
To haue a game at Tables now and than, 
Or drinke his pot as foone as any man : 
As faire a gamfter, and as free from braul, 
As euer man fliould need to play withall : 
Becaufe his Hofteffc pledg'd him not caroufe, 
Rafhly in choUer did forfweare her houfe. 
Takeing the glaffe, this was the oath he fwore, 
Now by this drinke, He nere come hither more. 
But mightilie his Hofteffe did repent, 
For all her gueftes to the next Alehoufe went, 
Following their Vickers fteps in euerie thing : 
He led the parrifli euen by a ftring. 
At length his auncient Hofteffe did complaine. 
She was vndone, vnles he came againe. 
Defiring certaine friends of hers and his, 
To vfe a poUecie, which fhould be this : (him, 

Becaufe with coming he fliould not forfweare (him 
To faue his oath, they on their backes might beare 
Of this good courfe the Vicker well did thinke, 
And fo they allwaies carried him to drinke. 


Your Sceane is done, depart you Epigrammes : 
Enter Goatc-footed Satyres, butt like Rammes. 

Come nimbly foorth, Why Jland you on delay? 
0-ho, the Mufique-tuning makes you Jiay. 

Well, friske it out nimbly: youjlaues begin, 
For noiv me thinkes the Fidlers handes are in. 



"\7[ T'Ho haue we heref Behold him and be mute. 

Some mightie man He warrant by his fute. 
If all the Mercers in Cheapefide shew fuch, 
He giue them leaue to giue me twice afmuch: 
I thinke the Stufife is nameleffe he doth Aveare: 
But what fo ere it be, it is huge geare. 
Marke but his gate, and giue him then his due. 
Some fwaggring fellow, Imay fay to you.- 
It feemes Ambition in his bigge lookes fhrowdes 
Some Centaure fure, begotten of the Cloudes. 
Now a shame take the buzard, is it hee.^ 
I know the ruffaine, now his face I fee: 
On a more gull the Sunne did neuer shine; 
How with a vengance comes the foole fo fine.^ 
Some Noble mans caft Sute is fallne vnto him. 
For buying Hofe and Doblet would vndo him. 




Bot wotc you now, whither the buzard walkes? 

I, into Panics forfooth, and there he talkes 

Of forraine tumults, vttring his aduice, 

And proueing- Warres euen Hke a game at dice: 

For this (fayes he) as euery gamfter knowes, 

Where one fide winnes, the other fide muft loofe. 

Next fpeach he vtters, is his ftomackes care, 

Which ordinarie yeeldes the cheapeft fare: 

Or if his purffc be out of tune to pay. 

Then he remembers tis a fafting day: 

And then he talkcth much againft exceffe, 

Swearing all other Nations eate farre leffe 

Then EngHHimen; experience you may get 

In Fraunce and Spayne: where he was neuer yet. 

With a fcore Figges and halfe a pint of Wine, 

Some foure or fine will verry hugely dine. 

Mee thinkes this tale is very huge in found. 

That halfe a pint fliould ferue fiue to drinke round 

And twenty Figges could feed them full and fat: 

But traucllcrs may lye; who knowes not that? 

Then why not he that trauels in conceit, 

From Eafk to Weft, when he can get no meate.-' 

His lourney is in Panics in the backe Ifles, 




Wher's ftomacke counts each pace a hudred miles 

A tedious thing, though chaunce will haue it fuch, 

To trauaile fo long baitleffe, fure tis much. 

Some other time ftumbling on wealthy Chuffes 

Worth gulling: then he fwaggers all in huffes, 

And tells them of a prize he was at takeing 

Wil be the fhip-boyes childrens childrens making. 

And that a moufe could finde no roomc in holde, 

It was fo pefterd all Avith pearle and golde : 

Vowing to pawne his head if it were tride, 

They had more Rubies then wold paue Cheapfide 

A thowfand other grofe and odious lies, 

He dares auouch to blinde dull ludgmentes eies. 

Not careing what he fpeake or what he fweare. 

So he gaine credite at his hearers eare. 

Somtimes into the Royall ExcJiauge heel droppe. 

Clad in the mines of a Brokers fhoppe : 

And there his tongue runs byas on affaires. 

No talke but of comodities and wares : 

And what great wealth he lookes for ery winde, 

From God knowes where, the place is hard to 

If newes be harkend for, thii he preuailes, (finde. 

Setting his mynt aworke to coyne falfe tales. 




His tongues-end is betipt with forged chat, 

Vttring rare lyes to be admired at, 

Heele tell you of a tree that he doth know, 

Vpon the which Rapiers and Daggers grow, 

As good as Fleetftreete hath in any shoppe ; 

Which being" ripe, downe into fcabbards droppe. 

He hath a very peece of that fame Chaire, 

In which Ccefa7' was ftabb'd: Is it not raref 

He with his feete vpon the ftones did tread, 

That Sathan brought, & bad CJiriJl make the bread. 

His wondrous trauels challenge fuch renowne, 

That Sir loJin Maiuidhiell is quite put downe. 

Men without heades, and Pigmeis hand-bredth hie 

Thofe with one legge that on their backes do lie, 

And doe the weathers iniurie difdaine. 

Making their legges a penthoufe for the raine, 

Are tut, and tush : not any thing at all. 

His knowledge knowes, what no mans notice shal. 

This is a mate vnmeete for eu'iy groome, 

And where he comes, peace, giue his lying roome. 

He faw a Hollander in Middlcborow, 

As he was flashing of a browne Loafe thorow, 

Where-to the hafte of hunger had inclyn'd him, 




Cut himfelfe through, & two that flood behind him 

Befides, he faw a fellow put to death, 

Could drinke a whole Beere barrell at a breath. 

Oh this is he that will fay any thing, 

That to himfelfe may any profite bring. 

Gaynft whofouer he doth fpeake he cares not, 

For what is it that fuch a villaine dares not.^ 

And though in confcience he cannot denie, 

The All-commaunder fayth, TJionJJialt not lie: 

Yet he will anfwere (^careleffe of foules ftate) 

Trueth telling, is a thing obtayneth hate. 






A Man may tell his friend his fault in kindnes : 

To wincke at folly, is a foolifli blindnes. 
God fane yoii Sir, faluteth with a grace, 
One he could wifli neuer to fee his face. 
But doth not he vfe meere disfimulation, 
That's infide hate, and outfide falutationf 
Yes as I take it ; yet his anfwere fayes, 
Fafhions, and Cuftomes, vfe it now a dayes, 
A Gentleman perhaps may chaunce to meete 
His Liuing-griper face to face in ftreete: 
And though his lookes are odious vnto fight; 
Yet will he doe him the French conges right. 
And in his hart wifh him as low as hell, 
When in his wordes, hee's glad to fee him well ; 
Then being thus, a man may foone fuppofe. 
There is, God fane yotc fir, fometimes twixt foes. 

D 2. 




Oh fir, why thats as true as you are heere, 

With one example I will make it cleere, 

And farre to fetch the fame I will not goe, 

But into Hoiinds-ditcJi, to the Brokers row: 

Or any place where that trade doth remaine, 

Whether at Holbonic Conduit, or Long-lane-. 

If thyther you vouchfafe to turne your eye, 

And fee the Pawnes that vnder forfayte lye, 

Which are foorth comming fir, and fafe enough 

Sayes good-man Broker, in his new print ruffe; 

He will not ftand too ftri6lly on a day, 

Encouraging the party to delay, 

With all good wordes, the kindefb may be fpoke. 

He turnes the Gentleman out of his Cloake: 

And yet betweene them both, at euery meeting, 

God fane you fir, is their familiar greeting, 

This is much kindneffe fure ; I pray commend him. 

With great good words, he highly doth befrend him 

It is a fauour at a pinch, in neede: 

A pinching friendfliip, and a pinching deede. 

The flaue may weare his fuites of Sattin fo. 

And like a man of reputation go. 

When all he hath, in houfe, or on his backe. 




It is his owne, by forfaytures fhypwracke. 
See you the Brooch that long ins Hat hath bin? 
It may be there, it coft him not a pin : 
His fundry fortes of diuers mens attyre, 
He weares them cheape, euen at his owne defire. 
Shame ouer-take the peffant for his payne, 
Tliat he fhould pray on loffes, to his gayne, 
In drawing Wardrobes vnder his fubieftion, 
Being a Knaue in manners and complexion, 
lumpe like to Vficrie, his neareft kinne; 
That weares a money bagge vnder his chinne : 
A bunch that doth refemble fuch a fhape, 
And hayred like to Paris garden Ape, 
Foaming about the chaps like fome wilde Boore, 
As fwart and tawnie as an India Moore: 
With narrow brow, and Sqirrell eyes, he fliowes, 
His faces chiefeft ornament, is nofe. 
Full furniflied with many a Clarret ftaine, 
As large as any Codpiece of a Datic, 
Emboffed curious; euery eye doth iudge, 
His lacket faced with motheaten Budge: 
To which a paire of Satten fleeues he weares, 
Wherein two pound of greace about he beares. 





His Specktacles do in a copper cafe, 
Hang dangling about his pisfing place. 
His breeches and his hofe, and all the reft 
Are futable: His gowne (I meane his beft) 
Is full of threeds, Intitul'd right threed-bare: 
But wooll theron is wondrous fcant and rare. 
The welting hath him in no chardges ftood, 
Beeing the ruines of a caft French hood. 
Exceffe is finfull, and he doth defie it, 
A fparing whorfon in attire and diet. 
Only exceffe is lawfull in his Chefl, 
For there he makes a golden Angells neft : 
And vowes no farder to be founde a lender, 
Then that moft pretious mettall doth engender: 
Begetting daylie more and more encreafe. 
His monyes flaue, till wretched life furceafe. 
This is the lezu alied verie neere, 
vnto the Br-oker, for they both do beare 
Vndoubted teflimonic of their kinne : 
A brace of Rafcalls in a league of fmne. 
Two filthie Curres that will on no man fawne, 
Before they taft the fweetneffe of his pawne. 
And then the flaues will be as kinde forfooth. 




Not as Kinde-Jieart, in drawing out a tooth: 

For he doth eafe the Patient cf his paine, 

But they difeafe the Borrower of his gaine. 

Yet neither of them vfe extremitie, 

They can be villaines euen of charitie. 

To lend our Brother it is meete and fit: 

Giue him roft meate and beat him with the fpit. 

Vfcrie fure is requifite and good, 

And fo is Brokeage, rightly vnderftood : 

But foft a litle, what is he faies io? 

One of the twaine (vpon my life) I knowe. 





/^H, let the Gentlewoman haue the wall, 

^-'^I know her well; tis Miftris, What d'ye call. 

It fhould be fhee, both by her Maske and Fanne: 

And yer it fliould not, by her Seruing-man ; 

For if mine eyes do not miftake the foole, 

He is the Vfher of fome Dauncing Schole, 

The reafon why I doe him fuch fuppofe, 

Is this; Mee thinkes he daunceth as he goes. 

An a6liue fellow, though he be but poore, 

Eyther to vault vpon a Horfe, or &c. 

See you the huge bum Dagger at his backe. 

To which no Hilt nor Iron he doth lacke. 

Oh with that blade he keepes the queanes in awe, 

Brauely behacked, like a two-hand Saw. 

Stampes on the ground, & byteth both his thoms 

Vnleffe he be commaunder where he coms. 




You damned whores, where are you? quicke come 

Dry this Tabacco. Fill a dofen a Beere : (heere, 

Will you be briefe? or long ye to be bang'd? 

Hold, take this Match ; go light it and be hang'd. 

Where ftay thefe whores when Gent, do call? 

Heer's no attendaunce (by the Lord) at all. 

Then downe the ftaires, the pots in rage he throws 

And in a damned vaine of fwearing growes, 

For he will challenge any vnder heau'n, 

To fweare with him, and giue him fixe at feuen. 

Oh, he is an accomplifli'd Gentleman, 

And many rare conceited knackes he can; 

Which yeeld to him a greater flore of gaine. 

Then iuggling Kings, hey Paffe, ledgerdemaine. 

His witt's his lyuing: one of quaynt deuice. 

For Bowling-allies, Cockpits, Gardes, or Dice, 

To thofe exployts he euer ftandes prepar'd : 

A Villaine excellent at a Bum card. 

The Knaue of Clubbes he any time can burne, 

And finde him in his boofome, for his turne. 

Tut, he hath Gardes for any kind of game, 

Priincro, Saiint; or whatfoeuer name, : 

Make him but dealer, all his fellowes fweares. 




If you do finde good dealing, take his eares. 
But come to Dice; why that's his onely trade, 
Michell Mum-cliaunce, his owne Inuention made. 
He hath a ftocke, whereon his lyuing ftayes, 
And they are Fullams, and Bard quarter-tj'ayes : 
His Langrets, with his Hie men, and his low, 
Are ready what his pleafure is to throw: 
His ftopt Dice with Ouick-filuer neuer miffe. 
He calles for, Come on fiue; and there it is: 
Or elfe heele haue it with fiue and a reach, 
Although it coft his necke the Halter ftretch. 
Befides all this fame kinde of cheating art. 
The Gentleman hath fome good other part, 
Well feene in Magickc and AJlrologic, 
Flinging a Figure wondrous handfomly; 
Which if it do not miffe, it fure doth hitt: 
Of troth the man hath great ftore of fmall witt. 
And note him wherefoeuer that he goes. 
His Booke of Chara6lers is in his hofe. 
His dinner he will not prefume to take, 
Ere he aske counfell of an Almanacke. 
Heele finde if one prooue falfe vnto his wife, 
Onely with Oxe blood, and a ruftie knife. 




He can transforme himfelfe vnto an Affe, 

Shewe you the Deuil in a Chriftall glaffe : 

The Deuill fay you? why I, is that fuch wonder f 

Being confortes they will not be afunder. 

Alainiie in his braines fo fure doth fettle, 

He can make golde of any copper kettle; 

Within a three weekes fpace or fuch a thing, 

Riches vpon the whole worlde he could bring, 

But in his owne purfe one fliall hardly fpie it, 

Witneffe his Hofteffe, for a twelue-moneths diet: 

Who would be glad of golde or filuer either, 

But fweares by chalke, & poaft, flie can get neither. 

More, he will teach any to gaine their loue, 

As thus (faies he) take me a Turtle Doue, 

And in an Ouen let her lie and bake 

So diy, that you may poulder of her make; 

Which being put into a cuppe of wine. 

The wenche that drinkes it will to loue incline: 

And fhall not fleepe in quiet in her bed, 

Till fhe be eafed of her mayden-head. 

This IS probatum, and it hath bin tride, 

Or els the cunning man cunningly lide. 

It may be fo, a lie is not fo ftrange, 




Perhaps he fpake it when the Moone did chandge 
And thereupon (no doubt) th'occafion fprunge, 
Vnconftant Lima, ouer rul'd his tongue. 
Astronomers that traffique with the Skie, 
By common cenfure fomtimes meete the lie: 
Although indeede their blame is not fo much, 
When Starres, & Planets faile, & keepe not tutch. 
And fo this fellow with his lardge profeffion, 
That endes his triall in a farre digreffion : 
Philofophers bequeathed him their ftone, 
To make golde with; yet can his purfe holde none. 




A/l E/Z^uuioiis, fweete Rofe-watred elloquence, 

Thou that haft hunted Barbarifme hence, 
And taught the Goodman Cobbin, at his plow, 
To be as eloquent, as Tidlie now : 
Who nominicates his Bread and Cheefe a name, 
(That doth vntruffe the nature of the fame,) 
His stomacke stayer. How dee like the phrafeF 
Are Plough-men fimple fellowes now adayesf 
Not fo, my Maifters: What meanes Singer thenf 
And Pope the Clowne, to fpeake fo Boorifh, when 
They counterfaite the Clownes vpon the Stage? 
Since Countrey fellowes grow in this fame age, 
To be fo quaint in their new printed fpeech, 
That Cloth will now compare with Veluet breech 
Let him difcourfe, euen where, and when he dare, 
Talke nere fo Ynk-home learnedly and rare, 
Sweare Cloth breech is a peffant (by the Lord) 




Threaten to drawe his wrath-venger, his fworde : 

Tufh, Cloth-preech doth deride him with a laugh, 

And lets him fee Bofic-bastcr; thats his ftaffe: 

Then tells him brother, friend, or fo foorth, heare ye 

Tis not your knitting-needle, makes me feare ye. 

If to afcention you are fo declinde, 

I hauc a reftitution in my minde: 

For though your beard do ftand fo fine muflated, 

Perhaps your nofe may be transfifticated. 

Man, I dare challenge thee to throw the fledge, 

To iumpc or leape ouer a ditch or hedge, 

To wraftle, play at ftooleball, or to runne, 

To pitch the barre, or to flioote off a gunne : 

To play at loggets, nine holes, or ten pinnes, 

To trie it out at foot-ball by the fhinnes ; 

At Ticktacke, Irifli, Noddie, Maw, and Ruffe: 

At hot-cockles, leape-frogge, or blindman-buffe : 

To drinke halfe pots, or deale at the whole canne: 

To play at bafe, or pen-and Ynk-horne fir Ihan/ 

To daunce the Morris, play at barly-breake : 

At all exploytes a man can thinke or fpeake: 

At fhoue-groate, venter poynt, or croffe and pile. 

At befiirow him that's laft at yonder ftyle. 




At leaping ore a Midfommer bon-fier, 
Or at the drawing Dun out of the myer: 
At any of thefe, or all thefc prefently, 
Wagge but your finger, I am for you, I ; 
I fcorne (that am a younfter of our towne) 
To let a Bowe-bell Cockney put me downe. 
This is a Gallant farre beyond a Gull, 
For very valour filles his pockets full. 
Wit fhowers vpon him Wifedomes raine in plent>- 
For heele be hangd, if any man finde twenty 
In all their parifh, whatfoere they be, 
Can fhew a head fo polleticke as he. 
It was his fathers lucke of late to die 
Vntejlate; he about the Legacie 
To London came, inquiring all about, 
How he might finde a Ciuill-villin out. 
Being vnto a Ciuill Lawyer fent, 
Pray Sir (quoth he) are you the man I meant: 
That haue a certaine kinde of occupation. 
About dead men, that leaue things out of fafhion ? 
Death hath done that which t'anfware he's not 
My Father he is dyed deteftable : (able, 

I being his eldeft heire, he did prefer 





Me Sir, to be his Executioner: 

And verie breifly my requeft to finnifh, 

Pray how may I by law, his goods diminifhf 

Was this a Clownef tell true, or was a none? 

You make fatte Clownes, if fuch as he be one: 

A man may fweare, if he were vrg'd to it, 

Foolifher fellowes, haue not fo much wit. 

Oh fuch as he, are euen the onely men, 

Loue letters in a Milke-maides praife to pen; 

Lines that will woke the curftcft fullen fhrow, 

To loue a man whether flie will or no. 

Being mofl wonderous pathetticall. 

To make Cifsc out a cry in loue withall : 

He fcornes that maifler Scholemaifter fliold thinke 

He wants his aide in halfe a pen of ynke: 

All that he doth it commeth ery whit, 

From natures dry-fat, his owne mother wit. 

As thus : 
Thou Honnyfuckle of the Hawthorne hedge, 
Vouchfafe in Cupids cuppe my hart to pledge : 
My hartes deare blood fweete Cis, is thy caroufe. 
Worth all the Ale in Gaatiner Gubbins houfe: 
I fay no more affaires call me away. 




My Fathers horfe for prouender doth ftay. 

Be thou the Lady CrefsiUlight to mee, 

Sir Trollclolle I Avill proue to thee. 

Written in hafte : farewell my Cowflippe fweete, 

Pray lets a Sunday at the Ale-houfe meete. 


E 2. 




'""Pis a bad worlde, the comon fpeach doth go, 

And he complaines, that helps to make it fo : 
Yet euery man th'imputed crime would fhunne, 
Hipocrifie with a fine threed is fpunne. 
Each ftriues to fliew the verie beft in feeming, 
Honeft enough, if honeft in efteeming; 
Praife waites vpon him now with much renowne, 
That wrappes vp Vices vnder Vcrtucs gowne : 
Commending with good words, religious deedes, 
To helpe the poore, fupplie our neighbours needes 
Do no man wrong, giue euery man his owne, 
Be friend to all, and enemie to none; 
Haue charitie, auoyde contentious ftrife, 
Oft he fpeakes thus, that nere did good in's life. 
Derifion hath an ore in eueric Boate, 
In's Neighboures eie he quickly fpies a moate, 




But the great beame that's noted in his owne, 

He lets rcmaine, and neuer thinkes theron. 

Some do report he beares about a facke, 

Halfe hanging for\vards, halfe behind at's backe : 

And his owne faultes (quite out of fight and minde) 

He cafts into the part that hanges behinde : 

But other mens, he putteth in before, 

And into them, he looketh euermore. 

Contempt corns very neere to th'others vaine, 

He hates all good deferts with proud difdaine : 

Rajlincfsc is his continuall walking mate, 

Coftly apparreld, loftie in his gate : 

Vp to the eates in double ruffes and ftartch, 

God bleffe your ciefight when }^ou fee him march : 

Statutes, and lawes, he dare prefume to breake, 

Againft fuperiors cares not what he fpeake. 

It is his humours recreation fittes, 

To beate Counftables and refift all writtes, 

Swearing the ripeft wits are childifh young; 

Vnleffe they gaine inflruclions from his tongue. 

Theres nothing done amongft the verie bed, 

But he'l deride it with fomc bitter left. 

It's meate and drinke vnto him allwaies, when 




He may be cenfuring of other men. 
If a man do but toward a Tauerne looke, 
He is a drunkard, he'l fweare on a Booke: 
Or if one part a fray of good intention, 
He is a quarreller, and loues diffention. 
Thofe that with filence vaine difcourfes, breake, 
Are proud fantafticks, that difdaine to fpeake: 
Such as fpeake foberly with wifdoms leafure, 
Are fooles, that in affe6led fpeach take pleafure: 
If he heare any that reproueth vice, 
He faies, thers none but hipocrites fo nice. 
No honeft woman that can paffe along, 
But mufl endure fome fcandall from his tongue. 
She, deales croffe blowes her hufand neuer feeles: 
This gentlewoman, weareth capering heeles ; 
There minces Mall, to fee what youth wil like her. 
Her eies do beare her witneffe file's a ftriker. 
Yonders a wentch, new dipt in bewties blaze, 
She, is a maide as maides go now a daies. 
And thus Contempt makes choifeft recreation. 
In holding euery one in deteftation, 
His common gate is of the ietting fize. 
He hath a paire of euer-ftaring eies; 




And lookcs a man fo hungry in the face, 

As he would eate him vp, and nere fay grace. 

A little low cround Hatte he alwayes weares, 

And Fore-horfe-likc therein a Feather beares. 

Goodly curld lockes; but furely tis great pitty, 

For want of kembing, they are beaftly nitty. 

His Dobblet is a cut caft Satten one, (none, 

He fcorncs to buy new now, that nere bought 

Spotted in diuers places with pure fat, 

Knowne for a right tall trencher man by that. 

His Breeches that came to him by befriending, 

Are defperatc like him felfe, & quite paft mending 

He takes a common courfe to goe vntruft, 

Except his Shirt's a wafliing; then he muft 

Goe woollward for the time: hee fcornes it hee, 

That worth two Shirts his Laundreffe fhould him 

The weapons that his humors do afford, (fee. 

Is Bum-dagger, and basket hilted Sword. 

And thcfe in cuery Bawdie houfe are drawnc 

Twice in a day, vnleffe they be at pawne. 

If any fall together by the eares. 

To field cries he; why.^ zownes (to field) he fweares 

Shew your felues men : hey, flafli it out with blowes 




Let won make tothers guts garter his hofe, 
Make Steele and Iron vmpiers to the Fray, 
You fhall haue me goe with, to fee faire play: 
Let mee alone, for I will haue a care 
To fee that one do kill the tother faire. 
This is Contempt, that's euery ones difdayner. 
The ftrife purfuer, and the peace refrayner.- 
Hates thunderbolt, damn'd Murders larum-bell, 
A neare deare Kinfman to the Diuell of hell: 
And he whom SatJian to this humor bringes, 
Is th'only man for all detefled thinges. 




'^Om's no good fellow, nor no honeft man: 

Hang him, he would not pledge Ra/e halfe a can 
But if a friend may fpeake as he doth thinke, 
Will is a right good fellow, by this drinke : 
Oh VVilliaiUy Williani, th'art as kind a youth, 
As euer I was drunke with, thats the trueth. 
To7n is no more like thee, then Chalks like Cheefe 
To pledge a health, or to drinke vp-fe freefe : 
Fill him his Beaker, he will neuer flinch. 
To giue a full quart pot the empty pinch. 
Heele looke vnto your water well enough. 
And hath an eye that no man leaues a fnuffe. 
A pox of peecemeale drinking ( William fayes) 
Play it away, weele haue no ftoppes and ftayes. 
Blowne drinke is odious, what man can disieft it: 
No faythfull drunkard, but he doth deteft it. 



I hate halfe this ; out with it, and an end, 

He is a buzard will not pledge his friend, (clofed 

But ftandes as though his drinkes malt-facke were 

With, Heer's fye Sir, againfi you arc difpofed? 

How fay my friend, an may I be fo bold ; 

Blowing on's Becre like broth to make it cold. 

Keeping the full glaffe till it fland and fower, 

Drinking but after halfe a mile an hower, 

Vnworthy to make one, or gaine a place. 

Where boonc companions gage the pots apace. 

A mans a man, and therewithal! an ende, 

Goodfellowfhip was bred and borne to fpende. 

No man ere faw a pound of forrow yet. 

Could be alowd to pay an ounce of debt. 

We may be heere to day, and gone to morrow. 

Call mee for fixe pots more; come on, hang forrow 

Tut, lacke another day.'' Why, tis all one. 

When we are dead, then all the world is gone. 

Begin to me good Ned: What.? haft gon right .^ 

Is it the fame that tickeld mee laft night .^ 

We gaue the Brewers Diet-drinke a wipe; 

Braue Malt-Tabacco in a quart pot-pipe. 

It netteld mee, and did my braines infpire, 

I haue 


1 haue forfworne your drinking fmoake and fier: 

Out vpon Cane and leafe Tabacco fmell ; 

Diuels take home your drinke; keepe it in hell. 

Carowfe in Cannons Trinidado fmoake, 

Drinke healths to one another till you choake, 

And let the Indians pledge you till they fweate, 

Giue me the element that drowneth heate : 

Strong fodden Water is a vertuous thing, 

It makes one fweare, and fwagger like a King, 

And hath more hidden Vcrtne then you thinke, 

For He maintaine, good liquor's meate and drinke: 

Nay, lie go further with you, for in troth. 

It is as good as meate, and drinke, and cloth; 

For he that is in Mault-mans Hall inrolde, 

Cares not a poynt for hunger nor for colde. 

If it be cold, he drinketh till he fweate, 

If it be hot, he drinkes to lay the heate: 

So that how euer it be, cold or hot. 

To pretious vfe he doth apply the pot: 

And will approue it Phifically found ; 

If it be drunke vpon the DanifJi round, 

Or taken with a Pickle-herring or two. 

As Flemmings at Saint Katherines vfe to do: 




Which fifli hath vertue, eaten fait and raw, 

To pull drinke to it, euen as leate doth ftraw. 

Oh tis a verie whetflone to the braine, 

A march-beere fhewer that puts downe April raine 

It makes a man adliue to leape and fpring. 

To daunce and vault, to carrowle and to fing; 

For all exploytes it doth a man inable, 

Tout leape mens heades, and caper ore the table. 

To buroe Sacke with a candle till he reeles, 

And then to trip-vp his companions heeles, 

To fmg like the great Organ pipe in Paules, 

And cenfure all men vnder his controules. 

Againfl all commers ready to maintaine, 

That deepeft witt is in a drunken braine. 

I marry is it; that it is he knowes it; 

And by this drinke, at all times will depofe it, 

He fayes, that day is to a minute flirunke. 

In which he makes not fome good fellow drunke : 

As for nine Worthies on his Hoftes wall. 

He knowes three worthy drunkards paffc them all.- 

The firft of them in many a Tauerne tride, 

At lafl fubducd by Aquauitce, dide. 

His fecond Worthies date was brought to fine, 




Feafling with Oyfters and braue Rennifh wine. 
The third, whom diuers Dutchmen held full deere, 
Was ftabb'd by pickeld Hearinges & ftrong Beere. 
Well, happy is the man doth rightly know, 
The vertue of three cuppes of Charnico, 
Being taken fafting, th'only cure for Flegme, 
It worketh wonders on the braine, extreame. 
A pottle of wine at morning, or at night, 
Drunke with an Apple, is imployed right, 
To rince the Liuer, and to purifie 
A dead ficke Hart from all infirmitie. 






T lu'd the Philofopher Hcraditus 

•^In Troynoicant, as once in Ephefus : 

Were not Denwcrites liue's-date full done, 

But he with vs, an's glaffe fome fande to runne: 

How would the firft, dry-weepe his watry eyesf 

And th'others laughter, eccho through the skies F 

For while they in this world were refident, 

He7'aclitus, for Vertiies banifhment, 

Perform'd a penfiue teare-complayning part : 

Democrites, he laugh'd euen from his hart, 

Spending his time in a continuall left. 

To fee bafe Vice fo highly in requeft. 

Weepe Vertues want, and giue fad fighes too boote ; 

Vice rides on horfebacke, Vertiie goes on foote : 

Yet laugh againe as faft on th'other fide, 

To fee fo vile a fcumme preferr'd to ride. 

V. But 



But what wilt helpe to figh on flntie finne? 

T'will not be mollifide as it hath binne: 

T'is farre more highly fauour'd then before, 

For Sinn's no begger, (landing at the dore, 

That by his patches doth his want difpute, 

But a right welcome Sir, for's coftly fute : 

And maskes about with fuch an oftentation. 

World fayes, Vtcc-haters loues no recreation. 

You fliall haue fmooth-fac'd neate Disfimulation, 

A true W/iat lacke yce? by his occupation, 

Will (/ in tritetJi ; Yes trnely) fhew you ware, 

All London cannot with his flufife compare. 

Nay, If you match it (goe from him to any) 

Take his for nothing, pay him not a penny. 

At this, my fimple honeft Country-man 

Takes Trueth, and Trudy, for a Puritan, 

And dares in's confcience fweare he loues no lying. 

But that they deale for, he giues him the buying: 

To let him haue a pen-worth he is willing; 

Yet for a groates-worth makes him pay a fliilling, 

Giues good-man Trollopp one thing for another. 

And fayes, hee'le vfe him as he were his brother: 

But while his eares with Brothers tearmes he feedes, 




He prooueth but a Coofen in his deedes : 
Brotherhood once in kindred bore the fway, 
But that dates out, and Coofnage hath the day. 
The foregone ages that are fpent and donne, 
The olde time pafl, that calles time prefent Sonne, 
Saw better yeeres, & more plaine-meaning howers 
Then prefently, or future following ours. 
The worlde is naught, and now vpon the ending, 
Growes worfe & worfe, & fardeft off fro mending. 
Seauen grand Deuills, bred and borne in Hell, 
Are grac'd like Monarches, on the earth to dwell; 
wher they comaund the worlds whole globy roud 
Leaning poore Verhwus life, no dwelling ground. 
Pride is the firft, and he began with Eue, 
Whofe cognifance ftill's worne on womens fleeue 
He fits the humours of them in their kinde, ^ 

With euery moneth, new liueries to their minde. 
A Buske, a Maske, a Fanne, a monftrous Ruffe, 
A boulfter for their Buttockes, and fuch fluffe: 
More light and toyifh then the wind-blown chaffe 
As though they meant to make the Deuill laughe. 
The next that marcheth, is the roote of euill, 
Cal'd Couetoufnefse, a greedy rafcall Deuill : 

F 2. To 



To fill old Iron barred chefls, he rakes, 
Great rents for Htle Cottages he takes : 
Hordeth vp corne, in hope to haue a yeare, 
Fit for his cut-throate humour, to fell deare. 
Then is there a notorious bawdie Feend, 
Nam'd Letcherie; who all his time doth fpend. 
In two wheeld Coatch, and bafon occupation: 
Makeing a vaulting howfe his recreation, 
Vnto his doore the Sumner howerly marches: 
And euerie Tearme, looke for him in the Arches. 
Eimie's the fourth: a Deuill, dogged fprighted, 
In others harmes he cheifly is delighted ; 
His heart againft all charitie is fteeld, 
His frownes are all challenges to the field: 
Though nothing croffe him, yet he murmers euer. 
He laughs at fome mans loffe, or els laughs neuer. 
Wratli is the next, that fwaggers, fightes, & fwears, 
In Flcetstreete, brauely at it by the eares : 
Parboild in rage, pepperd in heate of ire, 
Hotte Hue d, and as cholericke as fier. 
Vitlers, and Searjants, are beholden to him, 
Till halter deftinie, of life vndo him. 
Sixt lubberly gor-belled Deuill great, 




Is Gluttony, fwolne with exceffe of meate: 
His bellifliip containes th' infatiate gutte, 
paunch'd liquor proofe, an' twere a Malmfic butte, 
Dulled with drinke: this is his vfuall phraife, 
Yet one quart, and a morfell more, he fayes. 
The laft is Sloth, a lazie deuelifli curre, 
So truft in Idlencfse, he fcarce can fturre: 
Lumpifh and heauie thoughtes, of Sathaus giuing, 
That rather beggs, then labours for his lining. 
Thefe feauen, are feends come forth of Hells darke 
On earth feduceing foules, mifguiding men. (den, 




As the only known copy of the Firlt Edition of 
" Tis Merrie when Gofsips meete," 1602, is imperfe6t, 
the text of Sig. E (pp. 33-40), diftinguifhed by being 
enclofed within fquare brackets, is reprinted from the 
Third Edition of 1609. 


M erne when 

Gofsips meete. 


Printed by W. W. and are to be fold 
by George Loftus at the Golden 
Ball in Popes-head Alley. 
I 602. 


CHaucer, our famous reiiernt EngliJJi Poet 
When Canterbury tales he doth begin, 
(Suchashaue red his auncientverfes know it) 
Found Jiore of Gticjls in South-warke at an Inne, 
The Taberd caTd, zuhere he himfelfe the7i lay, 
And bare them Pilgrimes company next day. 

A Kentifli iourney they togither tooke, 
Towards Canterbury marching nine and tiuentie 
Scholler, ^;^<7fSaylor, luith Good-fellowes plefitie, 
But of blithe Wenches fcarcitie he hath j 

Of all that Crue none but the wife of Bathe. 

A London Taueriie puts their Inne dozvne then 
Wherein three Citizens; Wife, Widdow. Mayde, 
Did kindely meete, andtalke, anddrinkc like men. 
Andonefpent more then fixe oftotherpayde. 
Not penny a quart, dull Ale, nor drowfie Beere 
Btitfpritely wine, that snakes the witfJiine cleere. 

S. R. 


A Conference betweene a Gentle- 
man and a Prentice. 

Hat lacke you Gentle-man ? fee a 
new Booke new come foorth, fir: 
buy a new Booke fir. 

New Booke fay'fl: Faith I can Gentleman. 
fee no prettie thing come foorth to 
my humours Hking. There are 

fome old Bookes that I haue more delight in then 
your new, if thou couldft helpe me to them. 

Troth fir, I thinke I can fhewyou as many of all 
forts as any in London, fir. 

Can'fl helpe mee to all Greenes Bookes in one ^^^^^^^^^^^'^• 
Volume ? But I will haue them euery one, not any 



Sir; I haue the mofl part of them, but I lacke' 

Conny- catching, and fome halfe dozen more: but I 

thinke I could procure them. Therebe in the Towne 

I am fure can fit you : haue you all the Parts of Paf- 

guill, fir? ^ ^/ 


All the Parts, why I know but two, and thofe 
lye there vpon thyftalle; them I haue : but no other 
am I yet acquainted with. 



A Conference betweene 







Oh, fir then you haue but his Mad-cappc, and 
his Foolcs-cappe, there are others befides thofe: 
looke you heere, a prettie Booke He affure you fir. 
T'is his Melancholy, fir: and ther's another and 
you pleafe fir : heer's Mar all Philofophy of the laft 

What's that with Najhes name to it there ? 

Marry fir, t'is Pierce Penny-leJ/e, fir; I am fure 
you know it : it hath beene a broad a great while fir. 

Oh, I thou fay' ft true, I know't pasfing well : is 
that it. But were's the new Booke thou tel'ft me off, 
which is it? 

Marry, looke you fir, this isaprettie oddeconceit, 
Of a Merrie meeting heere in Loiidon, betweene a 
Wife, a Widdow, and a Mayde. 

Merrie meeting, why, that Title is fhale: Ther's 
a Booke cal'd, T'is merry when knaiies meele. And 
ther's a Ballad, T'is merry when Mall-men meete: 
and befides, there's an olde Prouerbe, The more the 
merrier: Andtherefore I thinkefure I hauefeeneit. 

You are deceiued fir, He affure you, for I will 
bee depofed vpon all the Bookes in my Shoppe 


Gentleman and a Prentice. 

that you haue not feene it; t'is another manner of 
thing then you take it to bee, fir : For I am fure you 
are in Loue, or at leaft will bee, with one of thefe 
three : or fay you deale but with two, The Wid- 
dow and the Mayde; becaufe the Wife is another 
mans commoditie : is it not a prettie thing to carry 
Wife, Mayde, and Widdow in your pocket, when 
you may as it were conferre and heare them talke 
togither when you will ? nay more, drinke togither: 
yea, and that which is a further matter; vtter their 
and all this in a quiet and friendly fort, betweene 
themfelues and thepinte-pot, orthequartquantitie, 
without any fwaggering or fquabbling, till the 
Vintners pewter-bearer in a Boyes humour gaue 
out the laugh at them. 

Thou fay'ft well, be-like thy Booke is a con- 
iuring kinde of Booke for the Femenine Spirits, 
when a man may rayfe three at once out of his 
pocket. ^ Prentice. 

Truelyfir, He affure you, you may make vertious 
vfeof this Booke diuerswayes, if you haue the grace 

A 4 to 


A Conference. 

to vfe it kindly; as for enfample : fit alone priuately 
in your Chamber reading of it, and peraduenture 
the time you beftow in viewing it, will keepe you 
from Dice, Tauerne, Bawdy-houfe, and fo foorth. 

Gentleman . Nay, if your Booke be of fuch excellent qual- 
litie and rare operation, wee muft needeshauefome 
Traffique together. Heere take your money, i'fl 
fixe-pence ? 

Prentice. I certaine tis no leffe, fir: I thanke yee fir. 

Gentleman. What is this an Epiftle to it.'* 

Yes for-footh: yes ti's Dedicated.- 



faunt conceited LONDON 

Gentle-women that are friends to mirth, 
and enemie to dull Melancholy. 

To all the pleafant conceited London 

Gentlewomem, that arefriendes to mirth, 

and enemies to dull Melancholy. 

KInde Gentlewomen of the kinder fort, 
Which are nokindredvnto dogged natures: 

Yet you your felues become no currifJt creatures; 
But in your mirth hauegoodconceipts andwittie, 
True London b^^ed, in 'Ew^dind's famous Cittie. 

To yotc this merry meeting is prefented, 
As the befl worthy for to entertaine it. 
It fcornes the fingers of the dif contented, 
And bids afigge for them that do difdaine it: 
Tis not for ftdlen fad-ones, peeuifJi braue, 
That nothing biU the Afses vertues haue. 

The lumpifi leaden 7nelancholy thought, 
Thais next dore-neighbour to a frantique braine, 
VVhofe doltifJi vnderflandhig' s good for notight, 
And is an out-cafl to a p leaf aunt vaine: 

Smyling as often as V owXqs fleeple datmces; 





To the Gentle-women Reader^-. 

And take her liquor by the Dram and ounce 
With Faith I cannot di'inke, cry fie, and /row ne, 
Let her all good Societie rejioinice. 
And turne afcuruey barren witted clowne : 
She is too bafe, in any Commo7i-wealth, 
To be at drinJdng of a Gofslps health. 

Letfuch go keepe their chamber and their dyet, 
And looke as pale as any VdiVns pla/ler, 
And let their hujbands neucr Hue in quiet 
Vnlefse the Famine and Farthing-gale be inafier: 
And let them be euen at the befi they can 
Both ci^ofsc-confumers, and crofie lucke to ma^z. 

Their Hues are nothing els butfretfull humours ; 
They know not how to thinke a courteous thought \ 
Their tongues arefujolnc with prid' s corrupted tumors 
Turne Infide otU-ward, all's (alike) fiarke 7iaught. 
Then let them be cafiieerd and walke aloof e, 
Such paltry wenches are not C\a.rret-proofe. 


To the Gentle-women Readers. 

But as for you good liquor taking Dames 
That proue ifioji friendly hiyoiLr day ly greeting] 
A7id do deferue right louing Gofsips names, 
The Pynt and quart beng loitnes to your meeting 
Why much good dee, pray fit yee merry all, 
For t'other Pynt to make it euen, call. 

Who hath to do with what you pleafe to take, 
It is well knowne to be your owne you fpend 
To euery foole account ye need not make, 
You pay for that you hatte and there an end: 
There s many deale vpon the fcore for zvine, 
When they fJiould pay forget //^^ Vint'ners Syne. 

You are like Dido that fame fainous Qtieene 
That dranke a health vnto the wandring Prince; 
Such a Carrowfe, the like hath not beenefeene 
In Carthage, to that houre nor neuerfince: 
She ply d him with the Wine in golden Cup, 
Turning the liquor in ; the bottome vp. 



To the Gentle-women Readeri". 

So ^/rt^ Semiramis, King Ninus wife, 
VVhenJlie obtayii d three daycs to rule the Crow7te 
She prooud a good companioti all her life, 
And hand to hand dranke all her Nobles dozvne: 
Aftd all chief e Wenches at a Gosfips fea/l, 
She made them Ladyes eitery one at leafl, 

Cato, for wifedome being fnrnani d the Wife, 
The learned and the witty fentence fpeaker, 
Did marrie one itifl of the Gosfips fife : 
And in difcretion neuerfonght to breake-her: 
Though he the art of knowledge did prof effe, 
She zvouldnot dri^ike a droppe of Wine the leffe. 

Therefore youfJiall not greatly need to care, 
For euery bufie tongue that doth abtfe-you: 
But if that in a priuate rooine you are, 
Andhatie aDi^awerthatgood Wine will cJmfe-you, 
Withfrolique myrth this meafttrejHll applie, 
Tune your Tongues low, take not a Grippe too hie. 


In Commendatio7t of this Booke. 

I Cannot tell how others will thee like, 
But my conceit is thou art pafsing wittie : 
No viperous tongue thy pleafant vayne will ftrike; 
And if they fhould, (in fayth) the more t'were pittie. 
Thou meddl'ft not with Wines which ciuill bee, 
But Widdowes wanton ; Maydes of mean'ft degree : 
What reafon then haue enuious, enuie theef 

Thou art not feated in a fumptuous Chaire, 

Nor do thy Lines import of Maieftie: 

Thy table is not deckt with coftly fayre, 

Thy feruants at a call, Anon will crie : 

In deed thy drinke is (Spirit, Vigor, Life, 

No fpurre to Enuie, nor no prop for Strife) 

Good Wine which cheer's a VViddow, Mayde, or Wife. 

Thou art not thwack't with baudy riball'd ftufife, 
Nor dooft thou touch in ought a vertuous creature, 
Thou need'ft not care though Vice at thee do fnuffe, 
A vicious man is like a fyrie Meature, 
Which fhewes farre off a terror to the eye : 
Yet as a flafli of lightning foone doth dye : 
But thou of Mirth and not of heat art framed, 
A Go/sips friendly meeting art thou named. 

loh. StraJige. 


Tis merrie when 

Gofsips meete. 

The Conference. 

GOod dea'ne fweet Coufen, lefii! how de'e dof Widdow. 
When fhall we eate another Dagger Pye} 
You are a ftranger : CJiriJl! when met we twof 
I mufe you do not call as you go by: 
What luckie bufineffe pra'y hath brought you hither 
That we fliould meete at Taiierne-doore togither, 

In trueth (kinde Couffe) my comming's from the Pawne, Wife. 

But I proteft I loft my labour theare: 

A Gentle-man promi'ft to giue me Lawne, 

And did not meete me, which he well fhall heare. 

Some lets may happen in the way vnknown. vvid. 

He hath beene hindred that's to bide vpon. Wife. 

Why how now Befsc, to paffe vnfeene do'ft thinke? Wid. 
Where go'ft my wench? (Befse) To fee my brother 5^^;/^;/. 
Heer's Widdozv, Wife and Mayde: E'faith lets drinke 
A parting Pynt, and fo God make vs euen: 

Slippe in good Confen, you are next the doore, 

Won Pynt of Kindneffe and away no more. 




Tis merry when 

Wife. No in good faith: in troth I muft away, 

My Husband's forth, our Shoppe muft needes be tended 

Mayd. My Mothers gone to Church, I cannot flay: 
If I be found from home, fhee'le be offended. 

Widd. He lead the way my felfe: Lord heer's aHfe, 

I know thefe fhifts fmcc I was Mayde and Wife. 



Where fhall we bee {Vint) I pray go vp the ftaires. 
Good Coufen no, let's take it (landing heere. 
Befhrew me then; where euery one repayres. 
He none of that, wee'le haue a roome my deere. 

Come, come, you looke that I fhall be your leader. 

Couffe, that's becaufe you are a nimble treader. 

Vint. Y'are welcome Gentle-ivomen : what Wine drinke yef 

Wz'fl?. All's one to me; what fay you miftris Befse? 

Wife. What Wine's the befl for our completions thinke ye? 

Vint. I haueno Phificke. ( Wife.)Y&t good brother gt{{Q. 

Wid. Why, ha'fl good Clarretf (Vint.) I,the befl in London. 

Wife. Either fill good; be briefe: or leaue't vndon. 



Gofsips meete. 

Heere Gentle-tvovicu this is neate and pure. Vint. 

Pra'y tafte it Couffe, you know good Wine and Beere. Wife. 

Good Lord, good Lord that you grow fo demure. VVid. 

Let's drinke famiher, wherefore come we heere .^ 
This to you both, Couffe Grace, and miftreffe Beffe\ 
A full Carowfe, He haue you pledge no leffe. 

T'is pretie wine in trueth; nay fill your Cup, 
Wee'le haue no pingling now we are alone, 
If here were men I would not drinke it vp 
For twentie pounds my felfe, but now al's one : 
Someime wet lip, and fmell the wine's enough. 
And leefe a kiffe, rather then marre our ruffe. 

But now let's barre diffembling to be merrie 
And in good earneft entertaine our wine : 
This touch and tafte, makes the fences wearie. 
What reafon now wee fhould be foolifh fine.? 
No louer nor no futer's here that fees-it : 
We haue good time, and liquor, let's not leefe-it. 

C Content 


Tis merrie when 

IVi/i: Content (fay I) nay B^/sc, He be thy skinker. 
Mayd. In trueth (for-footh) a full cup doth excell, 

Good Lord, I am become a mightie drinker. 
IV/d. Another pint : the fellow vfd vs well. 
Wife. I by my troth the wine is good in trueth, 

Fill t'other pint. ( Wid.) Pre'thee go right fweet youth. 

VVid. Now Cuffe, heere's to our friendes in Soper-laiie. 

Wife. Let come fweete Coufen, I will pledge them all. 
Wid. But Iefu-Chrifi\ what is become oi lane? 
Wife. Oh, flie is gone to dwell by London-ivall. 
Wid. Good God (\\\ footh^ I neuer was more merry 

Then when we both did dwell in Bucklers-berry. 

Now heau'nly Chrift, how pleafant we haue bin; 
But yet won time we had a cruell ftirre, 
A Drapers man and fhe were mighty in. 
Wife. I pray, what flie with him, or he with her.^ 
Wid. Fayth both in loue; well lanes an honeft Mayde, 

But Lord the prankes that we mad-wenches playde. 



Gofsips meete. 

My Miftreffe got my Maifter to confent i 

One Midfommer, fliee beeing very ill, 
To leaue the Cittie, and goe lie in Kent, ' 

By which good hap we had the houfe at will. 
There Roger, lane, and I, met euery night, 
Heere Befse: good brother fill's a quart of White. 


No Mufique in the euenings we did lacke, VVid. 

Such dauncing, Couffen, you would hardly thinke it : 

Whole pottles of the daintieft burned Sacke, 

T'would do a Wench good at the hart to drinke it, 
Such ftore of tickling Galliardes, I do vow 
Not an olde daunce, but I/ian come kiffe-me now. 

And let them talke and prayfe the marriage life 

To be full of pleafure, as they fay, 

I that haue liu'd both Widdow, Mayde, and Wife, 

And try'd all pleafures euery kinde of way 

Know what to doo : and will maintaine this ftill. 
That of the three, Maydes haue the world at will. 

C 2 



Tis merrie when 

Wife. E'faith they haue, and haue not, for you know : 
(Put to the doore hers none but friends you fee) 
They fay loue creepeth where it cannot go, 
Maydes muft be married, leaft they mar'd fhould bee. 
I will be fworne, before I faw fifteene, 
I wifh't that I my wedding day had feene. 

Tufli tittle, tatle : Bcfse, it muft be done. 
My coufin thinkes not as her words import 
I could not for a world haue liu'd a Nun: 
Oh, flefli is frayle, we are a fmfuU fort. 

I know that beauteous wenches are enclinde, 
To harbour hanfomc men within their minde. 

Coufen you meane becaufe a Mayde is free, 
Hauing no head to keepe her body vnder 
She Hues a life not bound fo much as wee, 
The ieft is fimple and it makes me wonder 

That you which haue with Venus fports beene fed, 
Should put fuch errours in a Maydens hed. 


Gofsips meete. 

Nay, but I pray you vnderftand my reafon : 
The youthfull fauours that they do attaine, 
For this you know that all the woing feafon 
Sutors with gifts continuall feeke to gaine 

Their Miflreffe loue, to ioine with their afife6lion 
With words and Lyues, humbled in all fubie6lion. 


That's very true, the bountie of their Loues 
Are lib'rall ftill with many a kinde refpe6l. 
In confcience I had tweentie paire of Gloues 
When I was Mayde giu'n to that effefl; 

Garters Kniues, Purfes, Girdles, ftore of Rings, 
And many a hundred daintie pretie things. 


Well, Coufen well, thofe dales in date be paft, Wid. 

T'is very true with vs that world doth change. Wife. 

Here ftands a Cup of wine, pra'y who dranke laflf 

Why that did I to Befse: Lord! Maydes be ftrange, Wid. 
They looke for thoufand words of fweet and pray 
And take few things to which they fay not nay. 




Tis merry when 

Maydc. T'is Maydcns modeftie to vfe denyall, 

A willing offer commeth twice or thrice. 
Wid. Put here's a cup of Wine doth ftand for tiyall, 
Your Mayden-fhip takes liquor in too nice: 

Praymende your fault, kinde^r/ir.wee'le none of that, 
Wine and Virginitie kept ftale, drinke flat; 

Maydc. You are to blame, in trueth we drinke like men, 

Now by my truely I am e'ne afliamed. 
Wid. Tut wench, God knowes when we fhall meete agen : 
Nor neede we feare of husbandes to be blamed. 
Our cent of Wine, fliall not by them be felt, 
The married Wife in kisfrnGT will be fmelt. 

Wife. Oh Cuffe, if that be all the worft, I care not, 
He take allowance euen with the beft : 
This cup to you, you fhall not fay I dare not : 
My Husband fmell ; oh Icfu, there's a left, 
I care as little for my Husbands fmclling. 
As any Wench this hourc in London dwelling. 


Gofsips meete. 

T'is well you need not: fure I take him kinde. IVid. 

As kinde a man as woman need to lie-with. Wife. 

Would I as well were fitted to my minde, Mayde. 
A louing Man who would not Hue and die with/ 

My Husband did to other Loues encline. vvid. 

Nay, mine is conftant by this cup of Wine, Wife. 

Now Chrift, how Wines ^xvA. Widdoives \.2kQ oczdX\ows> 
T'in-large their Husbandes credites, or difprayfe: 
In fome match men, in fome the women ftrayes : 
And when they meete, they do difcourfe and fcan 
About whofe choyce hath got the kindeft man. 


Alas (good Befse) thou fpeak'ft thou know'ft not what, 
Thy iudgement is not worth a Wallnut-fhell : 
There's an old graue Prouerbe tell's vs that 
Such as die Maydes, doe all lead Apes in hell : 
I rather while I Hue, would yeerely marry, 
Then waighting-mayde on fi.ich preferment tarry. 





Tis merry when 

Mayde. That Prouerbs proofe can do you little Head : 

But married Wines oft giue and take fuch claps, 
Taurus fo rules and guides their husbands head, 
That euery night they fleepe in Horn-worke caps : 
I pra'y what Prouerbe is it that allowes 
The Diuels pi6lure on your husbands browes. 

Wid. Enough you wrangling wenches, fie for fliame : 
Take me in drinke, leaue out our difputation. 
Pra'y brother, fill a pynt more of the fame. 
Wife. Coufen, belike you meane to drinke in fafliion, 
We fhall be trim'd and haue our wits refin'de 
E'faith we fhall, if you may haue your minde. 

Wid. Now to your husband Couffe, this full Carrowfe. 
Wife. In trueth I pleadge you, and I thanke you truelie; 

To all our friends Befsc, at your mothers houfe, 
Mayde. Thankes gentle Miftreffe Grace, I dranke but newlie. 
Wife. Beflircw my heart this wine is not the worft. 

Wid. Good-faith me-thinkes t'is better then the firft. 



Gofsips meete. 

But Couffen, pre-thee art not yet toward marriage? 
Truely I am, and am not as it ftands : 
A Gentle-man of pafsing gallant carr'age 
Doth ply me hard, won that ha's pretie lands: 
Hanfomer man neucr in fhooe did tread, 
By this good drinke, a kinder ne're broke bread. 


To try his loue fometimes I faine me ficke, 
And by this Candle he will fit and weepe. 
Now by my troth that's e'ne my Good-mans tricke, 
Let me complaine : Chriji \v\v7i\. a quoyle heele keepe. 
Asking what ailes my fweet-heart, tell mec honnie, 
My Loue, my Doue, my Lambe, my pretty Connie. 


See, fee, how fa'y: but firra Couffen than Widd. 

I force a figh with halfe a douzen grones : 

This comes (fayes he) to lie without a man. Wife. 

My Husband fayes, kinde Loue thou breed'fl yong bones 
Well loJin (fay I) you iefl to fee my paine, 
Then by this wine, the foole will weepe againe. 




Tis merrie when 

JVzd. Coiiffe, you are happie you haue fuch a one, 

Make much of him : a iewell Wench thou haft : 
But I had won would let me grone, and grone, 
The verieft Clowne; but well, tis gone and paft. 
If he had liu'd Couffen, I do proteft 
I would haue done a thing: well, let that reft. 

He neuer truft a red-hair'd man againe, 
If I ftiould hue a hunered yeeres that's flat, 
His turne can not be feru'd with one or twaine; 
And how can any woman fuffer that.? 

I know t'is better to take wrong then do it, 
But yet in fuch a cafe flefh leades vs to it. 

Mayd Why, is a red-hair'd man fo bad of life.? 
What fay you to a yellow flaxen haire.? 
Wid. Not won among a hundred trew t'his Wife, 

That conftant loyall-harted thoughts doth beare. 
They loue, but how.? as did the youth of Greece, 
From euery Wench to gaine a golden Fleece. 



Gofsips meete. 

And they whofe mindes haue this corrupt infeclion, 
(Becaufe I would haue Befse to take good hcede) 
Are fuch as be call'd Sanguine of complexion, 
I pre-thee Girle, let no fuch Sutor fpeede. 
I fpeake it by experience and good tr}^all, 
Of all haire-colours giue that haire deniall. 

A Nnt-browne colour, or an Aboiirnc either 
May both do well, and are to be allow'd; 
A Waxen-coXowx hath no great fault neither, 
But for a ragged chin I firme haue vow'd, 
It fhall by me perpetuall be abhor'd, 
And with my heeles I fcorne it by the Lord. 

Amanwhofe beard feemes fcar'dwith fprites t'haue bin. 
That wants the bountious grace, length, bredth.&thicknes 
And hath no difference twixt his nofe and chin, 
But all his haires haue got the falling ficknes, 

Whofe fore-front lookes like lack-an Apes behinde. 
She that can loue him beares a fcuruey minde. 

D 2 

I pray 


Tis merrie when 

IVz/e. I pra'y what fay you to my husband then/' 
Z'ZHd. The rar'ft completion that you can deuife; 

The golden Sentence proues blacke-bearded men 
Are precious pearles in beauteous womens eies : 
Their loyall hearts none iuftly can controule, 
I loue a blacke-man, coufen, with my foule. 

Wife. Let Bejfc note this, for when I was a Mayd, 
And to the loue of men began to bow, 
I gaue great eare to that which women fayd, 
When they Avcre merry met as we are now : 
Yea, and my mother did perfwade me too, 
Wench f would flie fayj note what your elders doo. 

That Leffon without booke was ftraight mine owne, 
Shee needed not repeate it ouer twice; 
I quickly fmelt what t'was to liue alone, 
What to be kinde in Loue, what to be nice. 
Vint. Anan, anan; what i'ft (iox-{oo\\\) you lacke/ 

vvid. Sauceages, brother, and a pynt of Sacke. 



Gofsips meete. 

No more in fadneffe, now t'is time to part, Mayd. 
In confcience it is fixe a clocke at leaft. 

Wee'le haue a reckoning after t'other quart. Wid. 

They fay enough's as good as any feaft. Mayde. 

Indeede my wench, enough's a feaft that's right. VVid. 

But we want that, which He alone all night. 

You both may mend that matter when you will, Wife. 

Whofe fault i'ft but your owne, you do not marrie.^ 

God made not Bcffe to Hue a Mayden ftill, 

Faith t'is my mothers counfell that I tarrie: Mayd. 

She alwaies faies Avhen yong men come a woing, 
Stay daughter, ftay: you muft not yet be doing. 

Now in good faith your mother is to blame Wid. 

To wifh fo womanly a wench to ftay : 

She knowes fifteene may husband iuftlie clame. 

Fifteene! why I was that laft Lady -day: Mayde. 

You are deceiu'd for I am no fuch youth, 
I am fixteene, when next March comes in truth. 




Tis merry when 

Wtd. Beflirew my hart but that's a goodly time, 
I would to CJiriJl that I could fay fo too, 
I would not linger out my youthfull prime, 
Nor ftand and aske my mother what to doo. 
No, I could tell I trow, as well as fliee, 
To\\'ard BatcJicllers how Mavdens ought to bee. 

Mayde. I, I know fome thing too: but what of that. ^ 

Our Parents willes (you know) muft be obay'd. 
Wife. Well, fay they muft: yet fliall I tell you what 
A SchoUer tolde me when I was a Mayde : 

Of marriage knot they haue no power to breake-it : 
Now by this Sacke, a Learned man did fpeake-it. 

Wid. T'was nothing but found trueth which he did tell, 

For Husbands, we our Parents muft forsake. 
Wife. Were this Wine burn'd Couffen, it would do well. 
Wid. Fayth I was thinking on it when you fpake. 
Mayde. My mother fayes burnt Sacke is good at night. 
wid. A'my word Beffe, your mother's in the right. 



Gofsips meete. 

Brother, I pre-thee let this Wine be burn'd, Wife. 

And fee (good youth) the Sauceages be ready, 

To one good meaning our three mindes be turn'd, 

When Sacke is fugerd t'will not be fo heady. 

We drinke fo much my cheekes are pasfing warme. Mayde 
Sweete Elfabeth, good Wine can do no harme. Wife 

Yet truft me Couffen, when I was a Girle, 
For Tauerne, no Young-man could get me to-it 
Neither for loue, gold, precious ftones, or pearle: 
My tongue deney'd when heart Inclyn'd to do it. 
For by my fayth I euer lou'd good Wine, 
But oft refrain'd, I was fo Maydeu-fine. 

Well wot you Bejfe, to whom He drinke too now, VVta. 

Sure as I liue, vnto your fifter Sifse, 

And to the Youth that did the Angell bow. 

And fent it for a token : trueth halfe this : 
He loues you both, vpon my word he doth, 
Refolue it, or you wrong him Befse, in foth. 

D 4 His 


Tis merry when 



His loue to me I little do regard, 

Perhaps my fifter doth refpefl it more. 

Then Elfabetli in truth you vfe him hard. 

How hard.^ he had his anfwcre long before; 
I will not loue him what fo e're befall, 
He haue a hanfome man, or none at all. 


Go too, go too, his riches do excell. 

A Fig for wealth, t'is perfon I affe6l. 

You are a foole: he will maintaine you well, 

I tell you, I a proper man refpe6l : 

De'e thinke that I with fuch a dwarffe will ftore-me, 
That fliall difsrracc me when he g-oes before-me.^ 

He haue a comelie man from head to foote, 
1 whofe neate limbes no blemifh can be fpi'd 
Whofe leg fhall grace his ftocking or his boote, 
And weare his rapier manlie by his fide: 
With fuch a one my humour doth agree, 
He fliall be welcome to my bed and me. 



Gofsips meete. 

\Beffe, and th'art wife, hold that opinion ftill, 
For were / to begin the world to morrow, 
In fuch a choice, /would my minde fulfill: 
And fo / drinke to thee.- come on, hang forrow: 
Wench, let it be thy rule at any hand, 
To make thy choyce euen as thy mind doth fland. 

Many do match (as true as this is Wine) 
With fome Dunce, Clown, or Gul, they care not who, 
For no caufe but to be maintained fine, 
and haue their wils in what they pleafe to do; 
When their hearts loues as much in other things. 
As there is Vertue in mine Apron-ftrings. 

Faith tis too true. Fough, what a filthy fmell .'' ividdow 

as fure as death / am e'ne like to choke, 

Methinkes / feele my felfe not very well. Mavde 

Now out vpon't it is Tobacco fmoke: Wife 

Knocke Cozen knocke, heere is a filthy fmother. 
For Gods loue quicke ; fome luniper fweet Brother. 




Tis merrie when 

widdoiv There cannot be a more detefted ftinke, 

And yet you fee how dainty many make it. 

Mayde. As true as this is Wine that I do drinke, 

/would not for a Crowne kiffe one that takes it: 

Wife. My Husband is fo kind an honeft man, 

That heele touch none, if I fay, Do not Ian. 

Widdow. His commendations certaine is the more, 
With one another we are bound to beare, 
He beares with you, fauour you him therefore. 
Wife. Surely I do, as both of you fliall heare; 

T'is death to him to fmell but a Goofe-pye, 
and therefore Goofe-flefh neuer do I buy. 

Widdoiv. That's a ftrange matter fure ; I loue a Goofe, 

But for a Wood-cocke I did neuer care, 
wife. When I eat Pigge it makes my body loofe, 
Mayde. I loue a tender Rabbet, or a Hare, 

A Turkey-pie, or Pigion for a need : 

But on groffe Butchers flefli I cannot feed. 



Gofsips meete. 

Couffen, when I lay in of my firft Boy, 
Lord how I long'd to eate a Partridge wing, 
And when it came, my ftomacke had no ioy, 
But all my minde was of another thing. (buy, 

Thou fhalt lacke nought (quoth lohn) that gold will 
Why then (fweet-hart) lets haue a Cherry-pye. 


\{ London yeeld it {Lone) thou ihalt not lacke. 
So kind, methinkes I heare him flill repeat it.- 
But hafling downe the ftaires, I cald him backe, 
Tis full of ftones (quoth I) I cannot eat it.- 
With that he kift me, and began to weepe, 
And I being fomewhat heauy fell afleepe. 

But then I fell into the ftrangeft dreame 
Of fire and water, that you euer heard : 
And / was troubled Couffe the moft extreame 
With one all night, that had a yellow beard : 

And with a Cocke had neither fpurres nor combe. 
And with the little Bitch you haue at home. 




Tis merrie when 

Widdow. Why furely now you talke of dreames in fadneffe, 
I dream't laft night two Cattes did leape and skip, 
Playing together with great fport and gladneffe, 
Vntill one came to part them with a whip; 
I laughed that my heart did ake thereat, 
To fee the foolifli fellow whip the Cat. 

Wife. A pretty left: But Bcjjfc to whom de'e drinke? 
/fpy a fault, you do your felfe forget; 
The Wine ftands waiting in the cup me thinke, 
Prethee my Wench, lets haue our lips kept wet. 

I pledge thee my Girle : nay fweet now drinke it vp, 
A Go/sips round, that's euery one a Cup. 


Next houfe to mine a Gentlezuonian lies, 
Wilt pleafe you Gefitletvoinen heare a fong.-* 
Good fellow, now we are about to rife : 
Where ftayes the Vintners feruice Boy fo long.-* 
Shut dore pray Coffen after that bafe groome, 
Wecle haue no fidling Knaue difgrace our roome. 



Gofsips meete. 

Well, go to Couffe, go forward with the reft, 

What reft I pray? I know not what you meane; 

No, why of her that is your neighbours gueft? 

T'is true, t'is true, my gallant filken Oueane : 
I had forgot the talke I was about. 
The Fidler comes me in, and puts me out. 




Why flie forfooth (an't pleafe you) is fo fine. 
She neuer drinkes vnleffe ftie dine or fup. 
And then flie hath her penny pot of wine; 
Marry and gip, fome body take her vp: 

Some Do6lors wench a'my word for her skill, 
That takes in Diet by the dram and pill. 


My Husband doth alow me He be fworne, 
A pint a meale as true as we fit heere : 
I tell you (as my friends) I would e'ne fcorne 
To dine or fup without it in a yeere: 

He knowes (efaith) to pleafe me in my diet, 
Or for a month I fhall be out of quiet. 




Tis merry when 

Then if he fees me out of patience once, 
Oh Chrift, how we will feeke to amends, 
Then do I figh to grieue him for the nonce, 
Wherewith, hee'le kiffe and fay, Sweet loue be frends. 
I let him kiffe, and fpeake me faire a while. 
And when the fallen humor's paft, I fmile. 



I cannot chufe but praife thy pretty wit. 

It is the very courfe that I would take, 

Thou entertain'ft his humour pafling fit. 

Why, I thought men had lou'd for kindneffe fake? 
Alas plaine wench, God knowes thou art not in it. 
She that will fettle loue, mufl this way win it. 

Mayde. Indeed I neuer heard that tricke before, 

I thought mens loue muft ftill be fed with kindneffe, 
Wife. God helpe thee Bcffe, not one among a fcore, 
That poore opinion is but Maidens blindneffe: 
In thefe things thou knoweft little, it appeares, 
But it will come, for now thou com'ft to yeares. 



Gofsips meete. 

Why woman, if we feeme nc^ in behauiour 
As though we card not greatly to confort, 
They'le thinke forfooth they do vs mighty fauour, 
And we muft feeme beholden for our fport; 
So beft in ftrangeneffe we our meanings hide, 
which makes them loue, & giue good words befide. 

This for inftru6lion Beffe, I haue difclofed, 
Intruth I yeeld more thankes then may be told, 
Heere's to you both again ft you are difpofed. 
Lord, while you talke the Sauceages wax cold. 
Come draw your kniues: fall to, I pray begin, 
You know cold Puddings are not worth a pin. 


How pretty fait they taft : but tis the better. Wife. 

Moft rare efayth to drinke Sacke withall, ividdow. 

Bejfe, pray go too, will you remaine my detter? 
Why de'e not pledge me? troth and fayth you fliall. 

Nay fare all this : truft me t'is more then need, Mayde. 

In truth, in fadneffe, now in very deed. 




Tis merry when 

Widdoic. Well, if you do not Beffc you do me wrong, 

You fhall not be forfworne for twenty pound, 
Maydc. How't burnes my belly as it goes along, 
Wife. My turne is next, and fo it paffeth round ; 
Looke Geiitleivomen is it full de'e thinke ? 
I fcorne to be intreated take my drinke. 

Widdoi^.'. Why laugh you Coffen? fweet lets know, 
Mayde. An odde conceite / thinke on makes me fmile. 
When I am forth in company, or fo. 
How by the dram I take in Wine that while, 
Kifsing the Cup, vpon the Wine I frowne, 
And fo with fmelling it, / fet it downe. 

Some fimple fooles (all manners for his wit) 
Comes on me with the French falute mofl: quaintly, 
And fayes. Sweet, mend your draft, you drink no whit, 
Introth you fhew your felfe too mayden-dainty; 

Drinke better Lady at my kind requeft, 

/ fay fweet Sir, / can no wine digeft. 

Marry wee'le] 


Gofsips meete. 

Marry wee'le beare you witnes when you will. 
He take my oath on twentie Table-bookes, 
The lafl full cup hath made you mightie ill: 
Some Roffa-folis : fee how pale flie lookes. 

Another pynt of that fhe tafted laft, 

To breake winde with, and then the worft is paft. 


Good (efayth) good, my Cuffe is in the vaine, Wife. 

He match you for it, wench, I hold a Crowne, 

Fill none vnleffe you'le drinke about againe. 

Content, fay I, you cannot put me downe. Wid. 

How fay'fb thon Befsc, fhall it be fo girle, fpeakef 
If I make one, pray God my girdle breake. Mayd. 

Talke not fo loude, what Avill folke thinke that hearesf Wife. 

The very Vintners Boy laugh'd when you fpake. 

Had I feene that, I would haue found his eares: Widd. 

Why maifter Boy, wee'le pay for that Ave take, 
Bafe groome, I fay, although thou tak'fl me mellow, 
Know fmooth fac'd Knaue,I am your Miftreffe fellow, 

F Good 


Tis merry when 

IVlfe. Good Lord! what ayles my coufen be fo hot/ 
Tufh, let it paffe, you know Boyes fawcie be. 
Widd. It fhall not be forgiuen nor forgot: 

Your maifter Hues (you flaue) by fuch as we. 
Call for a reck'ning : let's know what's to pay, 
By heau'ns, I fcorne a minute more to ftay. 

Brother, I pra')', is it your Maifters minde. 

Your fellow Boy fhould flout guefts when they drinke.i^ 

yjfif My maifters will is for to vfc you kinde. 

W/rt' T'will fcath him more my friend, then he do think.- 

Whatisthyname.^(Z^/;//.) Forfooth, an'tpleafeyee,^'?^///. 

Wid WhatCountreyman.^CZ^////.) Forfooth,atFifhft:reet hill. 


William, we come not heere to be abufed, 
There are more Tauerns befide your's in towne, 
Wee can go where we might be courteous vfed, 
In truth forfooth my fellowes but a Clowne. 
William, we haue fome credit where we dwell : 
And William, Boyes fliould vfe their betters well. 


Gofsips meete. 

For William, fay the cafe were but your owne 
And that you were as we are at this feafon 
With friends a drinking where you are not knowne 
Would you be flouted f {Vint.) By my faith no reafon. 

William, thou anfwer'ft Hke a Youth of fence, VVid. 

For furely VZHlliam, t'is a great offence. 

And William, I would hauc you vnderftand, 
We'le pay your Maifter for the wine we haue: 
O Lord forfooth, as fure as in my hand. 
William^ wee come not to entreat or craue : 
Wee met togither William, at your doore, 
And entred for a pynt, which falles out more. 


William, we will not be beholding (fee-yee) 
Vnto your Maifter more then to another: 
T'is for good Wine and welcome, we come tee-yee, 
Or farewell William, and you were my brother. 
And therefore William, this abufe we fcorne, 
For we are London Gentle-women borne. 

F 2 





Tis merry when 

W/V/. Good William, know : heer's neither Cifse nor A'^/^, 
Vint. No, fo God helpe me, I do fee you are not. 
W/rt^. Thinkes favvce your fellow, we vfe Parrots prate, 
William, our talke is honeft, and we care not 

If all the Parifh were in place to heare it. 

No, by this Cup. ( Vint.) Efaith you need not fweare it. 

Vint. Forfooth, I truft your wine was very good. 
^Mid. William, I grant, the wine was not amiffe, 

But that bafe Boy, hath vext me to the blood, 
A man, William, would neere haue ofifer'd this: 
The Prouerbe fayes t'is manners that doth make: 
William, Giue giiejls good words for manners fake. 

William, when cam'ft thou in this houfe to dwell 
Forfooth about three yeeres agon, laft May. 
William, ferue God, and pleafe thy mafter well, 
T'will be thine owne vviUiam, an other day. 
Your maifter's marri'd, vvilliam, is he not.^ 
Yes forfooth, yes, a miftreffe I haue got. 



Gofsips meete. 

William, your Maifter hath no children by-her.^ V^iddozv. 

No, forfooth, but I thinke flie be with childe, Vin. 

To haue a Boy fhe hath a great defire. 

So would not I, William, for Boyes be wilde, W/^. 

Though Girles cry, William, till they be bepift, 
William, giue me a Girle, take boyes who lift. 

Coufen, you do forget your felfe, me-thinke, 

When Befse and I come home, we ftiall be chid. Wife. 

Pray fill the cup to William, let him drinke. V\liddozu, 

In trueth forfooth t'is the laft thing I did. Vint. 

Good William, drinke: I pree-thee William, doo. Wife. 

Forfooth I pledge you, and I thanke ye too. Vint. 

William, let's know to pay and theres an end. 
Marry, forfooth three ftiillings and a penny. 
William, lay downe their mony, none fhall fpend 
Coufen, and Befse, pra'y do not offer any. 

Harke, Bow-bell rings, before the Lord tis late, 
William, good night, pree-thee take vp thy plate. 



S. R. 





Wherein is fet dozvuc. 

The Arte of Humouring. 

The Arte of carrying Stones. 

Will. St. Lift. 

la. Foft. Law. 

Ned Bro. Catch, and 

Blacke Robins Kindneffe. 

With the conceits of Doflor Pinch-backe a 
notable Makefliift. 

Ten times more pleafant then any thing yet 
pnhliJJied of this matter. 

Non ad iniitandinn^ fed ad ciiitandiivi. 


P^'intedfor R. lack/on^ and I. A^orth^ 

and are to be fold in Fleetflreete, 

a Utile aboue the Conduit. 


chants, Apprentifes, Farmers, and 
plain e cowitrimcn, health. 

T is mofl true, Gentlemen, and wo- 
full experience dayly teacheth vs, 
that the more carefull Princes are in 
erecting & eftablifliing good lawes, 
for the rooting out of vice in the 
common wealth, the more repug- 
nant (the diuell altogether predomi- 
nant ouer them) do euil difpofed per- 
fons, caterpillers, and the off-fcumme of the world (and ther- 
fore to be reiefled and excommunicated from the fellowfhip 
of all honefb men) oppofe themfelues againft God and good 
gouernement, and in fteede of an honeft and ciuill cariage 
(which the Lawe prefcribes them) betake them to a mofl: 
hatefull, vicious, and deteftable life : Who, as they may well 
be compared to vipers, moft venimous and fpitefull beafls, 
that for their venime and poifon are hated and fliunned of all 
men, as moft preiudiciall creatures : fo thefe bafe people, not 
once thinking of an honeft courfe of life, trufling vpon their 
owne mother wits, dayly deuife newe fliifts and policies, to 
fleece the plaine dealing man, and by that meanes growe in- 
to more hate amongft honeft men, then do the hated lewes 
at this day : and the name of Conicatchers is fo odious, that 
now a dayes it is had vp, and vfed for an opprobrious name 
for euerie one that fheweth the leaft occafion of deceit. The 
bookes that Avere not long ago fet forth, concerning Conie- 
catching and croffe-biting, and the difcouerie of each (if anie 
fparke of grace were) might haue beene fo manie reftraints 

A 2 and 

The Epiftle 

and bridles to call them from that abominable life, but they 
that arc giuen oucr to their owne hearts luft, with all their 
might inueigh both again ft them and their Author. 

I haue therefore, Gentlemen, as one inforced (aviorc patrice) 
taken in hand to publifli this little Pamphlet (which by a very 
friend came by a chance to my hands, and adding fomewhat 
of mine owne knowledge, and vpon verie credible informa- 
tion) moft neceffarie in my mind for the good of the com- 
mon wealth, both for all men to fee, what groffe villanies are 
now practifed in the bright Sunne-fliine, that thereby they 
may be forewarned to take heede how they conuerfe with 
fuch cofoning companions : as alfo a iuft checke and controll 
to fuch wicked liuers, that they perceiuing their goodneffe fet 
abroch, may with remorfe and penitencie forfake their abo- 
minable courfe of life, and betake them to a more honeft and 
ciuill behauiour. If any with the fpider heere feeke to fucke 
poifon, let fuch a one take heede, that in praftifmg his villany 
he chaunce commence Bachelor in Whittington Colledge, 
and fo in good time take his degrees and proceede Doctor, 
and thence with a folemne proceffion take poffeffion of do- 
ctor Stories cappe ; to which fome of the worfliipfull compa- 
nie of Conicatchers haue worthily heretofore attained. 

In this Treatife (louing countrimcn) you fhall fee what 
fliifts this crue of helhounds haue put in pra6life fmce the 
bookes of Conicatching came forth, vnder thefe names, viz. 
The Art of Humoring; The Art of carrying Jloncs ; IV. St Lift, 
la. laivc. Ned Br. catch, and Blacke Robins kindnejjfe: Wher- 
in are manifeftcd the nature of Humorifts, fuch as can infmu- 
ate themfclues into euerie mans companie : & as they fee him 
addicted, fo will they verfe vpon him, what policies they haue 
to purloine goods out of fliops vnder the pretence of plain- 
neffe, what fhifts they haue to cofen poore Alewiues, by the 
art of carrying ftones, what inconuenience may come by fol- 
lowing flattering ftrumpets, I know not I Avhat fliould be the 
caufe why fo innumerable harlots and Curtizans abide about 
London, but becaufe that good lawes are not looked vnto : 
is there not one appointed for the apprehending of fuch hell- 


moths, that eat a man out of bodic & foule ? And yet there be 
more notorious ftrumpets & their mates about the Citie and 
the fuburbs, then euer were before the Marfliall was appoin- 
ted : idle mates I meane, that vnder the habit of a Gentleman 
or feruing man, think themfehies free from the whip, although 
they can giue no honeft account of their life. I could wifli, and 
fo it is to be wiflied of euery honeft subie6l, that Amafis lawe 
were receiued, who ordained that euerie man at the yeares 
end fhould giue an account to the Magiftrate how hee liued, 
and he that did not fo, or could not make an account of an 
honeft life to be put to death as a fellon, without fauor or par- 
don : What then fliould become of a number of our vpftart 
gallants, that Hue only by the fweate of other mens browes, 
and are the decay of the for\vardeft Gentlemen and befl wits ? 
Then fhould we haue fewer conicatching ftrumpets, who are 
the verie caufes of all the plagues that happen to this flouri- 
fliing common wealth. They arc the deftru6lion of fo manie 
Gentlemen in England. By them many Lordfhips come to 
mine. What dangers growe by dallying with fuch vnchaft Li- 
bertines, and what inconuenience followes by their inordinat 
pleafures, let thofe that haue had wofull experience and mai- 
fter Surgeon together teftifie : nay, they not onely indanger 
the bodie by lothfom difeafes, but ingraue a perpetuall fhame 
in the forehead of the partie, and finally confume his foule and 
make him fit for the diuell. 

To leaue thefe bafe companions (that can be by no wholfom 
counfell, nor aduifed perfwafions bee diffwaded from their 
lothfom kind of life, nor called to any honeft courfe of liuing) 
in the dregges of their difhonefty. Would it pleafe the hono- 
rable and worfhipfull of the land to take order for the cutting 
off of thefe cofoners, and confuming cankers of this common 
wealth, they fhould not only caufe a bleffmg to be powred on 
this flourifhing flate, but haue the prayers of euery good fub- 
ie6l for their profperous healths and welfare. And thus Gen- 
tlemen, I conclude with this farewell : God either conuert or 
confound fuch bafe companions. 

Yours to vfc, 
S. R. 

To the Reader. 

Sc and pcnifc not ivitJi a curious cjr, 

For Truth eft's blamde, yet neuer tellcth lie. 
I tell not I, ivhat forrainc men hauc done. 

But follow that which others hauc begun. 
No learned Clearke in Schooles that vfc to write. 

But Enuie inalces their labours foinc to fpite. 
What thenf/iall I, that zvrite a homely flile, 
Thinke but to hauc a homely feoffing f mile. 
But thefe and thofc that cither mocke or flcorne, 

Would they might zvcarc (f aire fight) A6leons home. 
But you kind friends, that loue your countries wcaltJi, 

Vouch of my labours, good fortune guide your health. 
To pleafure inofl, and profit all's my end, 

My greatcfl care to plcafe both foe and friend. 
Readc then kind friends, my t ran ell hecre you hauc, 
I lookc for nought, noitght but your lo?tes T craue. 


haunting Conicatchers. 

Here hath beene of late daies pub- 
hfhed two merrie and pithie Pam- 
phlets of the arte of Conicatchnig : 
whenn the Author hath fufficiently 
expreffed his experlece, as alfo his 
loue to his Countrie. Neuerthe- 
leffe with the Authors leaue, I will 
ouerlooke fome lawe tearmes ex- 
preffed in the firft part of Conicatching: whereunto, as the 
Author faith, is neceffarilie required three parties: The fet- 
ter, the Vei'fer, and the Barnacle. Indeed I haue heard fome 
retainers to this ancient trade difpute of his proceedings 
in this cafe, and by them in a full Synode of quart pots it 
w'as thorowlie examined and concluded, that there were 
no fuch names as he hath fet downe, nor anie cheating 
Arte fo chriftened as Conicatching. Marie, in efifecl there 
is the like vnderhand traffique daylie vfed and experien- 
ced among fome fewe fbart vp Gallants difperffc about the 
fuburbs of London, who tearmes him that drawes the fifli 
to the bait, the Beater, and not the Setter: the Tauerne 
where they go, the Bufh, and the foole fo caught, the Bird. As 
for Conicatching, they cleape it Batfowling, the wine the 
Strap, and the cards the Limetwigs. Now for the compaf- 
fmg of a woodcocke to worke on, and the fetching him into 
the wine bench of his wracke, is right beating the bufli. 
The good affe is he will be dealt vpon, ftouping to the lure: 
if he be fo wife as to keep aloofe, a Haggard. And he whom 


Greenes Ghoft 

he makes Verfer the Retriuer, and the Barnacle the 

But all this breakes no fquarc, fo long as we concurre 
ill codcvi fnbicBo : yet I wifli, that as he hath looked into 
thefe wicked a6lions opened therein, fo he had alfo looked 
into other groffe finnes, which are fecded in the hearts of 
fundric perfons. Extortion had beene a large theame to 
haue wrought vpon: and with the Vfurers bagges full of 
gold he might haue handled another pretie Treatife: He 
might haue brought forth luftice weying bread, and the 
Baker putting his eares in the ballance to make euen 
weight. He fliould haue perfonated the Thames moft piti- 
fully complaining, what monflrous hauocke the Brew- 
ers make of her water, w'ithout all remorfe or compani- 
on: and how they put in willowc leaues and broome buds 
into their woort in fleed of hoppcs. So likewife a Chriflian 
exhortation to mother Bunch would not haue done amiffe, 
that flie fliould not mixe lime with her Ale, to make it 
mightie, or cozen the Queenes liege people of their drink, 
by fubbing them off with thefe flender w^afted blacke pots 
and Cannes, that will hold little more then a Sering. A 
profitable Treatife might haue alfo beene publiflied for 
fuch companions to looke into, as for good fellowfliip will 
not fticke to lend two or three falfe oathes to defeate the 
widdow and fatherleffc of their right, though in fliort fpace 
after they lofe their eares for their labour. A perfwafion 
againft pride had beene verie profitable : and an exhortati- 
on againft fwearing had beene a thing commendable, if 
he had in a plcafant Treatife flicwed the folly of yong 
youthes and idle queanes; which entring into the feruice 
of fundrie honeft perfons, continue there no longer then 
they can cleanly conuay fomc fufficient cariage for their 
prefcnt maintenance. Then had he done well, and perad- 
ucnturc giuen fuch light to fundrie honeft houfliolders, 
that they would be carefull what perfons they had receiued 
into their houfcs or put in truft about their bufineffe. 

There might haue alfo beene compiled a delectable and 


hauntinof Conicatchers, 


pleafant Treatife of the abufe committed by fuch as fell 
bottle ale, who to make it fly vp to the top of the houfe at 
the firft opening do put gunpowder into the bottles while 
the ale is new. Then by flopping it clofe, make the people 
beleeue it is the ftrength of the ale, when being truly fif- 
ted it is nothing indeed but the ftrength of the gunpowder 
that worketh the effe6l, to the great heart-burning of the 
parties that drinke the fame. I would haue had him touch 
the contrarietie of apparell, and fet downe reafons to dif- 
fwade men from wearing French peakes, becaufe they 
are good for nothing but to ftab men, as alfo told the vfe 
of the terrible cut, and the Swallow taile flash. 

To leaue daliance and come to the matter. I will in- 
forme you what policies haue beene pra6lifed fmce the 
books of Conicatching were fet forth. Thefe Batfowlers 
or Conicatchers hauing loft a collop of their lining, by 
communicating their fecrets with babling companions, 
haue now inuented a newe tricke to fetch in the pence. 
They difguife themfelues like Apparitors or Sumners, 
and come to a young Gentleman, Merchant, or old pinch- 
cruft, as it male fall out, that hath gotten a maid, a mans 
daughter, or this widdow or ordinarie woman with child, 
or at leaft haue beene more neere with them then they 
fhould: and them they threaten with proceffe, citations, 
the whip, or the white fheete at leaft, vntill they come to 
compofitio. The timorous foules fearing to be made a by- 
word of fhame to the whole Citie, bribe them with all that 
euer they can rap and rend, to holde their peace, and faue 
their honeftie. They will vrge the ftri6lneffe of their oath, 
and the danger of the law in fuch cafes of concealement, 
vntill they can fee them come off roundly : then they will 
hamme and hauke, and faie they are not euery bodie, and 
fo take their mony, and returne laughing in their sleeues, 
to thinke how they cofoned them. 

Within fliort time after they fend another of their copef- 
mates after the fame fort, and he giues them the like pluck. 
And fo two or three one after the other, (hall neuer leaue 

B afflicting 

Greenes Ghoft 

afflifling his ghoft, till they haue made him as bare as a 
birds taile, fo as he hath not one pennie more to faue him 
from hanging, if neede were. A monftrous abufe of authe- 
ntic, and hindrance to the courts of luftice, that haue the 
oucrfight of fuch offences. 

Other there be that do nothing but ride vp and downe 
the countrie, like yong merchants a wooing, and they will 
marrie euerie moneth a new wife, & then fleece her of all 
fhe hath, that done run away, and learne where another 
rich widow dwelleth, and ferue her after the fame fort: fo 
rounding England, til they haue pickt vp their crummes, 
and got enough to maintaine them all their life after. 

But exceeding all thefe are the fine fleights of our Ita- 
lian humourifts, who being men for all companies, will 
by once conuerfing with a man fo draw him to them, that 
he fhall thinke nothing in the world too deare for them, nor 
once be able to part them, vntill they haue fpent all they 
haue on them. 

If he be lafciuioufly addi6led they haue Aretines Tables 
at his fingers ends, to feede him on with new kinde of fil- 
thineffe : they will come in with Rowfc the French painter, 
and fhew what an vnlawfull vaine he had in baudrie : not a 
whore nor a queane about the towne but they knowe, and 
can tell her markcs, and where, and with whom shee hofts. 

If they fee you couetoufly bent, they will difcourfe won- 
ders of the Philofophers ftone, and make you beleeue they 
can make gold of goofe-greafe, only you muft be at fome 
two or three hundred pound charge, or fuch a fmall trifle, to 
helpe to fct vp their ftilles, and then you neede not care 
where you beg your bread : for they will make you do little 
better, if you follow their prefcriptions. 

Difcourfe with them of countries, they will fet you on 
fire with trauelling: yea what place is it they will not 
fwcarc they haue bccne in, and I warrant you tell fuch a 
found talc, as if it were all Gofpell they fpakc. Not a cor- 
ner in Fraunce but they can defcribe. Venice, why.? It is 
nothing, for they haue intelligence of it euerie houre, and 

' at 

haunting Conicatchers. 

at euerie word will come in with Siado Curtizano, tell you 
fuch miracles of Madame Padilia and Romana Impia, that 
you Avill be mad till you be out of England : & if he fee you 
are caught with this baite he will make as though he will 
leaue you, and faine bufnieffe about the Court, or that fuch 
a Noble man fent for him, vv'hen you will rather confent 
to robbe all your friends then bee feuered from him one 
houre. If you requeft his companie to traueile, he will fay. 
In faith I cannot tell, I would fooner fpend my life in 
your companie, then in anie mans in England. But at 
this time I am not fo prouided of monie as I would: ther- 
fore I can make no promife: and if a man fliould aduen- 
ture vpon fuch a iourney without money, it were mifera- 
ble and bafe, and no man will care for vs. Tut monie fay 
you (like a liberall young maifter) take no care for that, 
for I haue fo much land, and I will fell it, my credite is 
worth fo much, and I will vfe it. I haue the keeping of a 
Cofens cham.ber of mine, which is an old counfellour, and 
he this vacation time is gone downe into the countrie, 
we will breake vp his ftudie, rifle his cheftes, diue into the 
bottome of his bagges, but we will haue to ferue our 
turne, rather then faile we will fell his bookes, pawne his 
bedding & hangings, and m.ake riddance of all his houfe- 
hold ftufife to fet vs packing. To this he liftens a little, 
and faith, Thefe are fome hopes yet, but if he fhould goe 
with you, and you haue monie, and he none, you will do- 
mineere ouer him at your pleafure, & then he were wel fet 
vp to leaue fuch pofTibilities in Englad, & be made a flaue 
in another countrie. With that you offer to part halfes 
with him, or put al into his cuftody, before he fliould think 
you meant othenvife then wel with him. He takes you at 
your offer, and promifeth to hufband it fo for you, that you 
fhall fpend with the beft, and yet not waft halfe fo much as 
you do. Which makes you (meaning fimplie) to put him in 
trufl, and giue him the purfe. Then all a boone voyage into 
the lowe Countries you trudge, and fo traueile vp into 
Italy, but per varios cafus, & tot difcrimhia ra'um, in a 

B 2 towne 

Greenes Ghofb 

towne of garrifon he leaues you, runnes awaie with your 
monie, and makes you glad to betake your felfe to pro- 
uant and become a Gentleman of a companie. If he feare 
you will make after him he will change his name: and if 
there be anie Gentleman or other in the countrie, he will 
borrow his name and creepe into his kinred, or it fhall coft 
him a fall, and make him paie fw6etly for it in the end, if he 
take not the better heed. Thus will he be fure to haue one 
Affe or other a foote to keepe himfclfe in pleafmg. 

There is no Arte but he will haue a fuperficiall fight 
into, and put downe euerie man with talke: and when he 
hath vttred the mofb he can, make men beleeue he knowes 
ten times more then he will put into their heads, which are 
fecrets not to be made common to euerie one. 

He will perfwade you he hath twentie receits of loue 
powders, that he can frame a ring with fuch a deuife, that 
if a v/ench put it on her finger fhe flial not choofe but follow 
you vp and downe the flreetes. 

If you haue an enemy that you would be fainc rid of, he 
will teach you to poifon him with your v^erie lookes: to 
ftand on the top of Poules with a burning glaffe in your 
hand, and caft the fame with fuch a force on a mans face 
that walkes vnder, that it fhall ftrike him ftark dead, more 
violently then lightning. 

To fill a letter full of needles, which fliall be laid after 
fuch a mathematical order, that when he opens it, to whom 
it is fent, they fhall fpring vp and file into his bodie forci- 
bly, as if they had b^ene blowne vp with gunpowder, or 
fent from a Caliuers mouth like fmall fliot. 

To conclude, he will haue fuch probable reafons to pro- 
cure belccfe to his lies, fuch a fmooth tongue to deliuer 
them, and fet them forth with fuch a grace, that he fliould be 
a verie Avife man did not fwallow the Gudgin at his 

In this fort haue I knowne fundrie young Gentle- 
men of England trained forth to their owne deflru6lion, 
which makes me the more willing to publifli this dis- 


hauntinof Conlcatchers. 


courfe, the better to forewarne other of fuch Batfowling 
companions; as alfo for the rooting out of thefe infinua- 
ting moth-wormes that eate men out of their fubflance 
vnfeene, and are the decaie of the forwardefl Gentlemen 
and heft wits. 

How manie haue we about London, yt to the difgrace 
of Gentlemen Hue gentlemanlike of themfelues hauing 
neither mony nor land, nor any lawful means to maintain 
them, fome by play, and then they go a mumming into the 
countrie all the Chriftmas time w^ith falfe dice, or if there 
be anie place where Gentlemen or merchants frequent in 
the Citie, or anie towne corporate, thither will they, either 
difguifed like to yong merchants, or fubfbantiall Citizens, 
and draw them all drie that euer dealt with them. 

There are fome that doe nothing but walke vp and 
downe Paules, or come to fliops to buy wares, with bud- 
gets of writings vnder their armes: and thefe will vrge 
talke with anie man about their futes in lavv', and difcourfe 
vnto them how thefe and thefe mens bands they haue for 
money, that are the chiefeft dealers in London, Norwich, 
Briftow, and fuch like places, and complaine that they can 
not get one pennie. Why, if fuch a one doth owe it you 
(faith fome man that knowes him) I durft buy the debt of 
you, let me get it of him as I can. O faith my budget- 
man, I haue his hand and feale to fliewe, looke heere els: 
and with that pluckes out a counterfeit band (as all other 
his writings are) and reades it to him. Whereupon for 
halfe in halfe they prefently compound, and after that hee 
hath that ten pounds paid him for his band of twentie be- 
fides the forfeiture, or fo forth, he fayes. Faith thefe Law- 
yers drinke me as drie as a fieue, and I haue mony to pay 
at fuch a dale, and I doubt I fhall not be able to compaffe 
it: here are all the leafes and euidences of my land lying 
in fuch a fhire, I would you would lend me fortie pounds 
on them till the next tearme, or for fome fixe moneths, and 
then either it fhall be repayd with interefl, or I will forfeit 
my whole inheritace, which is better worth then a hundred 

B 3 marks 


Greenes Ghofl 

marks a yeare. 

The wealthie retailer, citizen, merchant, Gentleman or 
young nouice that hath ftore of crowncs lying- by him, 
greedy of fuch a bargaine, thinking perhaps by one claufe 
or other to defeat him of all he hath, lends him the mony 
and takes a faire ftatute merchant of his lands before a 
ludge, but when all comes to all, he hath no more land in 
England then feuen foote in the Church yard, neither is his 
inheritance either in Poffe or Effc, then a paire of gallowes 
in a greene field, nor do anie fuch occupiers knowe him, 
much leffe owe him anie money, whereby the couetous 
perfon is cheated fortie or fiftie pounds thick at one clap. 

Not vnlike to thefe arc they, that comming to Ordina- 
ries about the Exchange where Merchants do table for the 
moft part, will faie they haue two or three fhips of coales 
late come from Newcaftle, and wifh they could light on a 
good chapman that would deale for them altogether. What 
is your price, faith one.'' What's your price, faith another .>' 
He holds them at the firft at a very high rate, and fets a 
good face on it, as though he had fuch traffique indeed, but 
afterward comes downe fo low, y^ euerie man ftriues who 
fhall giue him earneft firft: and ere he be aware, he hath 
fortie fliillings clapt into his hand, to affure the bargaine 
to fomc one of them. He puts it vp quietly, and bids them 
inquire for him at fuch a figne and place, where he neuer 
came, fignifying alfo his name, when in troth he is but a co- 
foning companion, and no fuch man to be found. Thus 
goes he clearc awaie with fortie fliillings in his purfe for 
nothing, and they vnlike euer to fee him againe. 

There is a certain kind of cofonage called horfecourfing, 
v/hich is when a man goes to the Cariers of Cambridge, 
Oxford, Burie or Nonvich, or anie great towne of trade, 
and hires a horfe to ride downe with them, as thefc odde 
companions will doc: and what doth me he, but as foonc as 
he hath him, fteps afide into fome blind towne or other, 
and there lies till he haue eaten him out lim by lim in wine 
and capons, and then when he can get no more on him, he 



haunting Conicatchers. 

fends the Carler word where he is ; who in the end is faine 
to pay fome fiftie fliilhngs or three pounds for his vi6luals 
that hired him ere he can haue him. Rochefter hackney- 
men do knowe what belongs to this trade, for they haue 
beene often times fleeced by thefe ranke riders, who com- 
ming to a towne with a cloke-bag of ftones caried after 
them, as if they were men of fome worth, hire a horfe to 
Canterburie, and ride quite away with him. 

There be certaine mates called Faunguefts, who if they 
can find a fit Anuill to ftrike on, will learne what acquain- 
tance he hath in the countrie, and then they will come to 
him, and fay, I am to doe commendations to you from a 
friend of yours, and he gaue me this bowed fixe pence to 
drinke a quart of wine with you for his fake : and if he goe 
to the tauerne, they will not onely make him paie for the 
wine, but for all he drinks in befides. 

So was one in Aldergate-ftreete lately ferued, who 
drawne to the tauerne after fuch a like order called for a 
pinte of wine, the drawer brought it him, and a goblet 
with it, and fet them both on the table, and went his way: 
Whie, quoth this Fawnegueft, what a goblet hath the fel- 
low brought vs here, it wil not hold halfe a draught .'' So ho 
(quoth he) no attendance gluen here.'* He carie it to him 
my felfe, fince no body will come: for of all things I loue 
not to drinke in thefe squirting cups, fo downe the ftaires, 
forth of the doores he goes with the goblet vnder his cloake, 
and left his newe acquaintance and fmall remembrance 
to paie three pound for a three-penie fliot. 

Such Fawneguefbs were they, that meeting a prentife, 
who had beene to receiue a hundred pound for his mafl:er, 
fodainly in the middefl of Cheapfide in the dale time, and 
open market fbept to him, as if they had bin familiarly ac- 
quainted with him, and fodainly caft the hinder fkirt of his 
cloake ouer his face, making as though they had iested 
v/ith him, and feeming to thruft their cold hands in his 
necke, one of them thratled him fo fore by the wind-pipe, 
that he could make no noife, but fodainly funke to the 



Greenes Ghoft 

ground muffled in his cloke, while the other took from him 
the bagge with the money which he had vnder his arme, 
W'hich done, they ranne away laughing, as if that the d6ede 
were done in icft. 

Soone after the market folks and people paffmg by to 
& fro perceiuing the youth lie ftill on the ground & not flir 
vp, ftepped to him, and feeing in what ftate he w^as, rubbed 
and chafed him, and gaue him Aqua vitae, fo that foone after 
he came againe to himfelf : then looking about him, & feeing 
the people fo gathered together, he cried vnto them, O, 
where's my money! They wondring to heare him talke 
of mony, told him both how his companions left him, and 
they found him, whereby the people knowing how he was 
deceiued, made after them, but they were neuer heard of 
till this day. 

But thefe are Gentlemen Batfowlers in comparifon 
of the common rablement of Cutpurfes and pickpockets, 
and no man that fees them but would imagine them to be 
Caualiers of verie good fort. Marie there be a band of 
more needy mates, called Termers, who trauell all the yeere 
from faire to faire, and haue great doing in Weftminfter 
hall. Thefe are the Nips and Foifls; whereof the firft part 
of Conicatching entreateth, and thefe haue their cloyers 
and followers, which are verie troublefomc to them, for 
they can no fooner draw a bung but thefe come in for their 
tenths, Avhich they generally tearm fnapping, or fnappage. 

Now if the Cutpurfe denie fnappage, his cloyer or 
follower forthwith boyles him, that is, bewrayes him, or 
feazeth on his cloake, which the Nip dares not withfland, fo 
Richard Farrie a notable Lift of fixtie yeares of age was 
fcrucd, who beeing dogged or followed by a Cloyer called 
lohn Gibfon, who hauing feene him pierce a hogflied in the 
beginning of a faire challenged him for fnappage: which 
old Farrie denied, becaufe Gibfons wife (as hee then faid) 
was a pickpocket, and yet Avould part with nothing. Then 
did Gibfon fweare that he fhuld not buy one peniworth of 
ware that day (which is the right cutpurfe phrafe of get- 



haunting Conicatchers. 

ting a purchafe) and thereupon he fhadowed him vp and 
downe, and mard his market quite, as hee had before 

In reuenge whereof the faid RicJiard Farric at Way- 
hill faire lafl, hearing where Gibfon had purloined a 
purfe with thirteene nobles in it, fent a luftie fellow of his 
profeffion, a yoong dealer in the arte of cloying or follow- 
ing named lames Roades, that was fmce hanged at Dor- 
chefter, who being apparelled like a feruingman, came to 
demaund his miftreffe purfe of Gibfon, which he faid he 
faw him vnlawfully take awaie, as if indeed he had beene 
the Gentlev\'omans man that had the gleeke. Which Gib- 
fon at the firft vtterly denied, but aftenvard being further 
threatned with danger of his life, yeelded the purchafe vn- 
to Roades, which was immediatelie fliared betweene him 
and old Farrie. 

This thing foone after came to Gibfons eare, who was 
throughly laughed to fcorne for his labour. 

Manie there be of thefe wicked perfons, and alfo lewd 
Officers, who like fliadowes or cloyers, do nothing all day 
long but follow the Lifts vp and downe, pinching them 
for fnappage : and not one of them that hath the right dex- 
teritie in his fingers, but they know, & will conceale and 
patronize if neede require. Marie, if there be a nouice, that 
hath not made himfelfe knowne to their congregation, hee 
fhall foone be fmelt out, and haue no remiffion, vnleffe hee 
purchafe it by priuy pilferie. 

Thefe Cutpurfes of Stur bridge fell their luggage 
commonly at a towne called Botfliam, where they keepe 
their hall at an odde houfe, bowzing and quaffing, and haue 
their trulles attendant vpon them fo brifke as may be. 

How a Cheefemonger had his bag cut out of his 
Aprone hanging before him. 

T this faire it was, though long fince, that the cheefe- 
monger had his pocket cut out of his aprone, which 
C all 



Greenes Ghofl 

all the whole Colledge of Cutpurfes had aiTa}cd, v/hich 
none but one could bnng to paffe, and he indeed was a 
do6lor in his arte : for going to the Checfemongers boothe 
to buy a cheefe, he gaue him monie for one of the greatefl, 
and defired him to cut it in peeces, and put it behind him in 
the cape of his cloake. He did fo, and the whilcft he was 
thrufting it in, hee cut his pocket Avith twelue pounds 
out of his apron before him : for which deede he liueth re- 
nowmcd in the Cutpurfe chronicles, and for his fake they 
yearely make a fcaft, and drinke to the foulc of his decea- 
fed carkaffe. 

There be diuers forts of Nips and Foyfls both of the 
citie and countrie : thefe cannot one abide the other, but are 
at deadly hatred, and will boyle and difcouer one another, 
by reafon one is hindrance to the other. And thefe the for- 
mer bookes haue omitted. There are alfo fundrie other 
Lawes, not heretofore fpoken of, namely lames Foflers 
Law, or lames Fofters Lift: which grewe thus. 

How a cofoning Lift ftole a cloake out of a 
Scriucners fhop. 

THis fellow came into a Scriueners fiiop to haue a 
letter written to his wiues mother, fignifj'ing that 
his wife was run a\\-aie with another knauc, and had ca- 
ried awaie all that he had, and that he had rather be han- 
ged then be troubled anie longer with fuch a whore. But it 
mufh needs be written in hafte, for his o\\'ne father doth 
carie it, and he goes awaie ftraight. All the while he is tel- 
ling his tale, he caft a leering eye about the fliop, to fee if 
there were eucr a cloake v^pon a by-fettle, or anie other boo- 
tie that he might tranfport vnfeene vnder his owne cloak. 
By chance he efpied one, fo he leaned againft the wall 
where it lay, and with his hands behind him, he gathered it 
vp cleanly by little and little: then fodainly ftarting vp, 
faid, Yonder is my father that Avould carie it, and I Avill 
run after him to call him againe. So out of the doores ran 



haunting Conicatchers. 

he with all fpeed, hauing the cloake vnder his arme, cry- 
ing, Ho father, father, leauing the Scriuener yet writing 
his letter, who mift not his cloake til! a great while after, 
that he faw him not returne againe. 

There is a cunninger kind of Lift, when a Batfowler 
walking in an euening in the ftrectes, will faine he hath 
let fall a ring or a lewell, and come to a fhop '\\ell furni- 
fhed with wares, and defire the prentife of the houfe to 
lend his candle to looke it: he fufpe6leth no guile, lends it 
him: and the Batfowler goes poaring vp and dov.-ne by 
the doores, as if he had loft fomething in deed, by and by he 
lets the candle fal to and it goes out. Now I pray you good 
yong man, faith he, do fo much as light me this candle a- 
gaine : fo goes the fellow in to light the candle, while hee 
fteales what he will out of the fhop, and gets him going 
while the light commeth. 

There is a Lift called Will. St. Lift, whofe maner is to 
go vp and downe to Faires in a blew coate, fometimes in 
his doublet and hofe, and fometimes in a cloake, which 
commonly he puts off v.'hen he comes thither: this fellovv"" 
\vaiteth diligently v\hen any rich yeoman, Gentleman, 
or gentlew^oman goes into an Inne to laie vp his cloak, 
capcafe, fauegard, Portmantua or any other luggage, fo 
following them, marks to whom they are deliuered: then 
comes he within halfe an houre after puffing and blow- 
ing for the cloake, capcafe, portmantua, fword, or fucli like, 
and in his maifters name demandeth it, giuing the v.-ife, 
maid, tapfter, hoftler, or fome of the houfe two pence or a 
groate for laying it vp. Which hauing receiued, he is foone 
gone, and neuer returneth. This fellow will fometime 
ftand bareheaded, and offer to hold a Gentlemans fiirop, 
and verie diligently attend vpon him Vvhen he alighteth 
at anie great Inne, and feemeth fo feruiceable, as if he 
were an hoftler or chamberlaine belonging to the houfe: 
yea and fometimes follow him out of doores as his man, 
and attend vpon him to the Faire very orderly: within 
halfe an houre after, when he fees his new maifter is fo 

C 2 bu- 


Greenes Ghoil; 

bufic in the Faire, that he cannot haftily retuinc to his 
lodging before him, he -will come backe to the Inne run- 
ning, and tell them his Maifter hath fent him to them for 
his clokebag or Portmantua in all hafbe: for he is vpon 
paiment of money, and muft needs haue it. They thinking 
him verilie to be the Gentlemans man, becaufe at his 
comming he was fo neceffarie about him, they deliuer 
vnto him -vvhatfoeuer the Gentleman left with them, who 
notwithftanding when the true ovmer commeth, they are 
faine to anfwer it out of their ov/ne purfes. 

A flie tricke of Cofonage lately done in 

BEfidcs this, there is a kind of Lift called Chopchain, as 
when a Gentleman like a batfowler hath hired a chain 
for a day or two vpon his credit, or hath fome of his friends 
bound for the reftoring of it againc, goes to S. Martines, 
and buyes for a little money another copper chainc, as 
like it as maie be: then comes he to the Goldfmith, and 
vpon the right chaine offers to borrow twentie pounds: 
the Goldfmith toucheth it to fee if it be counterfeit or no: 
tlien finding it good, he tendereth him his money : which the 
whileft he is doing, and that both money and chaine lies 
yet vpon the ftall, what doth me he, but fumbles and plaies 
with the linkes carelefly, as if he minded another matter, 
fo by a fine tricke of Legerdemaine gathers it vp into his 
hand & chops the copper chaine in place, leaning him that 
pawne for his twentie pounds. 

How a man \vas cofoned in the euening by 
biijang a guilt fpoone. 

"\ T\ THilcfb I was writing this, I was giuen to vn- 

V V derftand of another like exploit nothing inferi- 

our to any of the former, A fellowe like a clowne that 

knew all points in his tables, and had becne maifter of 


haunting Conicatchers. 

his trade manie >-eares together, Avalking through Sil- 
uer flreete in London fuddenly in the dark fpurned a faire 
gilt f^Doonc (as it feemcd) being wrapt vp in a paper, v>hich 
before he purpofely let fall : the people thinking fome other 
had lofh it, and that it had beene his good luck aboue the refi; 
to find it, gan to flocke about him for to looke on it, and ad- 
mired his fortune in meeting with it. He counterfeiting 
the fimple foole as well as he could: Now a Gods will 
what fhall I do with fuch a Gugaw? would fome other bo- 
die had found it for me, for I know not what it is good for. 
Why, faid one of the fcanders by, wilt thou take money 
for it? I, quoth he, I Avould I had a crowne for it. And I 
will come fomwhat neere you, faith the other, for thou fnalt 
haue all the money in my purfe, which is foure fliillings, fo 
forth he drewe his purfe, and gaue him the money. And 
verie well content with the bargain, he put it vp, and faid, 
I marie, this money Avill doe me miorc good then twentie 
fpcones, and let them keepe fuch toies that lift, for I had 
rather haue one groat in my purfe then a cart loade of 
fuch trumperie. So away he Vvcnt laughing in his fleeue, 
to thinke how he had cofoned him that thought to ouer- 
reach him : & he that was fo cofoned, as it were triumphing 
at his bargaine, could neuer looke enough on the fpoone, 
but went prefently and caried it to the Goldfmith, to know 
what it was worth. Birlady fir v.hen he came thither, the 
fpoone was found to be but braffe faire gilded ouer, and 
worth but feucn pence at the raoH, if he fliould fell it, which 
was a heauie cooling card to his heart, and made him 
fweare, that for that fpoones fake he Avould neuer be in his 
plate againe while he lined. 

Thus euerie dale they haue new inuentions for their 
villanies, and as often as fafhions alter, fo often do they 
alter their flratagems, ftudying as much how to compaffe 
a poore mans purfe, as the Prince of Parma did to win a 
towne. Neither is this fpoonefelling the gainfullefl of 
their artes, although in one day they made away a dozen 
fo. I but it. is a tricke by the waie for a fupper or a breake- 

C ^ fafi: 

Greenes Ghofl 

faft, which no man at the firft can defcrie. Ouerpafling 
this catalogue of Lifts and Cutpurfes, Gentlemen, I 
will acquaint you with a ftrange newc deuifed arte of 
ftone-carying, wherein is contained the right vfe of the 
chalke and the poaft, as alfo a neceffarie caueate for vi- 
6luallers and nickpots, how to beware of fuch infinua- 
ting companions. 

The Arte of carying flones. 

FIrft and foremoft you muft note, that Icauing an Ale- 
w^ife in the lurch, is termed making her carie ftones, 
which flones be thofe great Oes in chalke that fland be- 
hind the doore : the weight of euerie one of which is fo great 
that as manie fliillings as there be, fo many times fhee 
cries O, as groning vnder the waight thereof. Now fir, of 
thefe Oes twentie fhillings make a iuft loade, and tenne 
pound a bargeful. But here lies the cunning, how to com- 
paffe an honeft Affe that will vndertake fuch a burthen: 
firft this is a generall precept amongft them, that he muft 
be fome ocide drunken companion that they deale vpon, 
and his wife a good wench, that fo flic may bee fallen in 
with, and wipe off her guefls fcorcs, if fo he haue no monie 
to difcharge it: a thing that manie women of that kind 
will willingly do to haue fport and faue their honeftie. Yet 
if this cannot conueniently be brought to paffe, or that in 
refpe6l of her age flie is not worth the taking vp, then will 
they be fure their goodman hoaft niuft be a certaine kind 
of bawd, or a receiuer of cutpurfes, pickpockets, or fuch 
like, whereby it fo fals out, that if he and they fquare about 
crownes, they may ftop his mouth Avith threatning to be- 
traie him to the Beadle of Bridewell, or telling Hind of 
Newgate what hofpitalitie he keepes. Nay further, they 
will obferue if he at anic time raile againft anie feuere 
luftice that hath the punifhment of fuch notorious per- 
fons, and if he do (as in fome drunken humour or other he 
will ouerflioote himfelfc in that kind) then will they con- 


hauntinof Conicatchers, 


ceale it, neucr difccoer it, but domineere oucr them, throwe 
the pots againfl the wall, for he and his houfe is forfeit vn- 
to them. Againe, it maie fo happen that hofpcs luais maie 
be an old feruingman, who hath belonged in his dales to 
feme famous recufant that hath long fmce broke vp houfe, 
and now being turned out of feruice, he hath no trade to 
Hue on, but muft marie a whore, and keepe vi61:ualling ei- 
ther in Weftminfter, or in the fuburbs of London. Then 
cocke a hoope, they are better then eucr they were. For if he 
be of the right ftampe he will be exclaiming againft the 
flate, or thofe that keepe his maifter, or he will enter into 
commendations of the old Religion: and this is the onely 
thing they defire, they neuer wifh a finer fellow to feed on. 
A Gods name let him fet forth his beefe and brewes, and 
trudge euerie day to the market to buy Capons & rabbets : 
for if they run neuer fo much in his debt, if they tell him of 
a purfeuant, he will neuer threaten the with a fergeant. A 
number more of thefe obferuations do appertaine to fhone 
carying, as namely at their firft comming to their lodg- 
■ ing they bee as free as an Empcrour, and dra\v all the ac- 
quaintance that they can procure to fpend their money 
there before another place, fo that the hoft and hofteffe may 
conceiue great matter of hope of hauing their houfe cu- 
ftomed by their lying in it, and eate no meat but haue ei- 
ther the good mian or the goodwife Hill with him at dinner 
or fupper, v/hich will plucke the flones on his flioulders the 
fafter, if fo he fuffer his guefts to run on the fcore. And this 
in anie cafe they fet down for a generall rule, that they 
lie not aboue two moneths in one place, for longer the ale- 
fcore is not able to hold out, and the poore man ouerpreffed 
fo exceffmely, in a malecontent humour v/ill rather grow 
clefperate, and not care for anie danger they can bring him 
to, then fuffer more then flefh and bloud can endure, or not 
rather haue his will on them for vfmg him fo badlv. 

How fay you my maifters, you thinke there is no de- 
ceit in a pot of ale, and that there are no cofoners but Co- 
nicatchers, but that's not fo, for London is a lickpenie, and 


Greenes Ghofh 

€uerie man hath not a mint in his pocket that Hues in it, 
feme muft praftife v/itcraft, that hauc not the gift in kee- 
ping a lanes end with a fword and a buckler, or at the leafl 
are fo crazed with the Italian bone-ache, that they are a- 
fraid to bee crufht in peeces, if they fliould earne their li- 
uing in a crowde. But to be briefe, I will tell you a merie 
ftorie how this name of Stone-carying firfi: came vp, and 
thus it followeth. 

How a Carier of Norwich w-as made 
to carie ftones, 

A Gentlewoman that made a fliew as if flie had beene 
of good credit, came to the carier of Nonvich, and told 
him fliee was to remoue houfhold, and went to dwell in the 
countrie, wherfore fhe craued his friendfliip in fafe tranf- 
porting of her things to Nor\vich : & fo it is (quoth flie) that 
mofb of my fubflance confifls in linnen, money, lewels, 
and plate, which I put altogether in a great cheft, which 
fhe brought thither: As for other trafli He neuer trouble 
my felfe with rem.ouing. I pray j^ou haue a great care to it 
that it bee fafely laid in the middeft of your cart, where 
th^eues male not eafily come at it, and that it be kept from 
raine or wet in anie cafe, promifmg to content him for the 
cariage with more then ordinarie due. After it was 
feene to come to three hundred weight, he laid it vp imme- 
diately in his carte, nor v.-ould flie depart till flie faw it fafe 
packed. About an houre after flie came to the carier again, 
telling him that flie was afraid flie fliould be conftrained 
to haue recourfe to her cheft, by reafon flie had a few tri- 
fles to buy ere flie departed, and that flie wanted fome fiuc 
or fixe pound. The Carier loath to vnload for fo fmall a 
matter, bid her take no care for money, for what flie nee- 
ded flie fliould haue of him, till fhe came downe into the 
countrey. So fixe pounds he lent her: and downe with him 
flie goes with her man as braue as might be. But coni- 
niing to Windham, fhee gaue him the flip, and he fawe 



hauntino- Conicatchers. 


her no more : Home went the Carler, and laid vp the cheft 
verie fafe in his ftorehoufe, daily looking when the Gentle- 
woman would come for it. After a moneth was paft, and 
hearing no words of her, fearing he was cofoned, he fent 
for the Conliable and fundrie other of his neighbours, and 
before them brake vp the cheft, finding nothing in it but 
fmall foft freeflone lapped in ftraw, mixt with Flints and 
fuch like ftufife, beeing very fpeciall things to giue the Ca- 
rler his loading. Alas, kind man, this was but heauie ti- 
dings for him : for befides the money that he had laid out 
of his purfe, he loft the cariage of other luggage, which 
would haue returned him greater profit. Yet could not 
this nor ten times as much vndoe him, but fetting light of 
it, in a merie humour he reported to fome of his friends 
the circumftance of all his cariage of ftones. And euer 
fmce the left hath beene taken vp by odde companions and 

I would bee loth by this my publiflit Difcouerie to 
corrupt the fimple, or teach them knauerie by my book, that 
els would haue beene honefl, if they had neuer feene them : 
for that were all one as if a Chirurgion that teacheth men 
what the plague is, that they might efchew it, fhould bring 
his patient that hath a plague fore, into the market place, 
and there lance it, whereby all men that looke on, in fteed of 
learning to auoid it, fhould be mofl dangeroufly infected 
with it. But my meaning in this is, but to chafe the game 
which others haue rowfed; and execute them outright 
which Conicatching only hath branded : and although I do 
not fpend manie leaues in inueighing againft the vices 
v/hich I reckon vp, or time and paper in vrging their odi- 
oufneffe fo far as I might : yet you muft not thinke, but I 
hate them as deadly as any, and to make manifeft my ha- 
tred to them, haue vndertooke this Treatife. But imagine 
the Reader to be of this wifdome and difcretion, that hea- 
ring fome laid open, he can difcerne it to be finne, and can 
fo deteft it, though he be not cloid with a common place of 
exhortation. And footh to fay, I thinke euery man to bee of 

D my 

Greenes Ghoit 

my mind, thai when they fee a fcllov/ leapc from the fubie6l 
he is handling, to diffwadc them by ftalc arguments from 
the thing they alrcadie dctcft, they fliould flcip it ouer, and 
neuer readc it, gainccopc him at the next turning point 
to his text. 

To difmiffe this parenthefis and returne to circa quod. 
I care not fnice this occafion of Stone-carying hath 
brought mc from talking of the cofonage of men to the 
treacherous fubtiltie of women, if I rehearfc you a talc 
or two more of Crofbitings latcl}- done by fuch detefta- 
ble ftrumpets. 

A Tale of a whore that crosbit a Gentleman of the 

Innes of Court. 

ACertainc queanc belonging to a clofc Nunnerie a- 
bout Clarkcnwell, lighting in the compan}^ of a yong 
Punic of the Innes of Court, trained him home with her 
to her hofpitall : and there couenanting for fo much to giuc 
him his houferoome all night. To bed they \\-ent together 
like man and wife. At midnight a crue of her copcf- 
mates kept a knocking and bufling at the doorc. She ftar- 
ting fodainly out of her fleepe, arofc and went to the win- 
dow to looke out: v.hercwith flic cr}-ing out to him, faid, 
that a lufticc was at the doorc with a companic of billes, 
and came to fearch for a feminaric Prieft, and that there 
was no remedic but flic muft open vnto them: wherefore 
cither he muft rife and lockc himfelfe in a fliudic that was 
hard by, or they fliould be both caried to Bridewell. The 
poore filly youth in a trance, as one new ftart out of fleep, 
and that knew not where he was, fuffcred her to Icade 
him whither flic would, who haftily thruft him into the 
ftudie, and there locked him, and went to let them in. Then 
entred Sim Swaflibucklcr, Captainc Gogfwounds, and 
Lawrence Longfword-man, v.ith their appurtenances, 
made inquirie as if they had beene Officers indeed, for a 
young Seminaric Prieft that fliould be lodged there that 



haunting Conicatchers. 

She fimpcrcd it, and made curtefie, & fpake reucrcntly vn- 
to them, as if flie had neuer feene them before, and that 
they had becnc fuch as they feemed, and told them fhe knew 
of none fuch, and that none lay there but her felfe. With 
that through fignes that fhee made, they fpied where his 
clothes were fallen downe betweene the cheft and the wall : 
Then they began to raile vpon her, and call her a thoufande 
whoores, faying they would make her an example, I mary 
v/ould they, and vfe her like an Infidell for her lying, nor 
would they ftand fearching any longer, but fliee fliould be 
conftrained to bring him forth: And that they might bee 
furc he fhould not ftart, they would carie away his clothes 
with them. As for the clofet, becaufc it was a Gentlemans 
out of the towne, they would not raflily breake it open, but 
they would fet watch and ward about the houfe till the 
morning, by which time they would refolue further what 
to do. So out of doores go they with his clothes, doublet, 
hofe, hat, rapier, dagger, fliooes, ftockings, and twentie 
marks that he had in his fleeue, which he was to pay vpon 
a band the next day for his father, to a merchant in Can- 
ning ftreete, and left Nicholas Nouicc ftaruing and qua- 
king in that doghole. The morning grew on, and yet the 
yong Ninihammer, though he was almofb frozen to death, 
ftood ftill and durft not ftirre, till at length the good wife of 
the houfe came and let him out, and bad him fhift for him- 
felfe, for the houfe was fo belaid, that it was not poffible for 
him to efcape, & that fhe was vtterly vndone through his 
comming thither. After manie words it grew to this vp- 
fhot; that he muft giue her a ring worth thirtie fliillings, 
which he then had on his finger, onely to helpe him out at 
a backe doorc, and in fo doing flie would lend him a blan- 
ket to caft about him. Which beeing perfourmed, like an 
Irish begger he departed on the backefide of the fieldes to 
his chamber, vowing neuer to pay fo deere for one nights 
lodging during his life. 

D z How 


Greenes Ghofl 

How a Curbar was drefl with an vnfauourie perfume, 

and how a notable whore was crosbit- 

ten in her ownc pracflife. 

A Notable whoore of late daics compa6t Avith a hooker, 
whom conicatching Englifli cals Curbar, bargained 
■with a countric Gentleman or Tcarmer aforefaid, to tell 
her talcs in her earc all night : & according to appointment 
he did fo. The Gentleman hauing fupt, and readie to go to 
bed, flic willed him to lay his clothes in the windowe, for 
(quoth flie) wc are fo troubled with rats in this place (which 
was in Peticote lane) that wee cannot lay any thing out 
of our hands, but they will in one night be gnav/ne to pee- 
ces, and made worth nothing: but her intent was this, 
that the Curbar with his crome might the more conucni- 
ently reach them; not that flie cared fo much for his appa- 
rell, as for his purfc, vrhich flic knew was well ftored with 
crownes, and lay in the fiecue of his doublet: whereupon 
he was ruled by her, and fo entred the lifts. Within two 
houres after, he beeing fore troubled with a laflvc, rofe vp 
and made a double vfe of his chamberpot, which going to 
throw it out at the windoAV, he remoued the clothes from 
before it, and fet it in the place till he had opened the cafe- 
ment. At that inftant the fpring of the window leapt open 
of the one accord. Whereat being amazed, he ftept backe 
with a trice, leaning the chamberpot ftanding ftill: then 
fearing the diuell had beene at hand, by and by he fpied a 
faire iron inftrument like a nut came marching in at the 
window verie folemnly, which in fteede of the doublet and 
the hofe that he ferretted for, arrefted that homely feruice 
in the member veffell, and pluckt goodman Jordan vrith all 
his contents down pat vpon the Curbars head and flioul- 
ders. Neuer was gentle Angler fo dreft: for his face, his 
necke and apparell were all befmcared with the foft Sir- 
reuerence, fo that I warrant you hec ftunke worfc then a 
lakes-farmer. The Gentleman hearing one crie out, 



hauntinor Conicatchers. 


and feeing his meffe altogether thus ftrongly taken awayv 
began to gather courage to him, and looked out to fee what 
it was : where, to his no fmall contentment hee might be- 
hold the Curbar lying along almoft brained, almofl: drow- 
ned, and well neere poifoned with the tragicall euent of 
thepifpot: whereat he laughed merily, and fufpccling his 
Leman to haue a Ihare in that confpiracy, and that for ten 
pounds it was her motion to haue him laie his clothes in 
the windowe, to the end he might haue loft them and his 
money, flie being a fleepe in the bed all this while, he qui- 
etly remoued his owne apparell, took her gowne and peti- 
coat and laid them in the fteed. Forthwith the Curbar reui- 
ued, in came the hooke againe verie manerlie, and clapt 
hold on thofe parcels, which together went downe with a 
witneffe. All Avhich conforting to his wifh, he went round 
to bed, and in the morning fcole awaie early, neither pay- 
ing dame Lecherie for her hire, nor leaning her one ragge 
to put on. 

Here was wilie beguily rightly acted, & an aged Ram- 
palion put befides her fchoole-trickes. But fmiply, thefe 
Crofbiters are neceffarie inftrumcnts now and then to 
tame fuch wanton youths, as will not let a maid or a wife 
paffe a long the ftreetes but they will be medling Vvith her: 
what they do they learne of the tumbler, who lies fquat in 
the brakes till the Conie be come forth out of her burrow, 
and gone a goffiping ouer the way to her next neighbors, 
& then he goes between her and home, and as fhc returneth 
with two or three flefhly minded Rabbets or Simplers 
with them, with whom it male be fhc hath made a bargain 
to go a bucking, then out flies the tumbler like y^ crofbiter 
8c feazeth on them all for his praie. I maruell that the book 
of Conicatching had not him vp in his table, fince by his 
firft example he corrupted the Chriftian people. But you 
will fay, he is animal irrationalc, and therefore to be borne 
withall, becaufe he doth but his kind. Kind me no kind, 
there is more knauerie in Cauilier Canis then you arc a- 
warc of, as you fliall perceiue by his difcourfe following. 

D3 A 


Greenes Ghoft 

A notable Scholerlike difcourfe vpon the 
nature of Dogges. 

NOw Gentlemen, will you giue me leaue to dallie a 
little for your further recreation, & I Vvill prouc vnto 
you that a dogge is a dangerous man, and not to be dealt 
withal! : yea he is fuch a kind of creature that he may well 
be mafber and gouernour ouer all ordinary beafts : for firft 
and formoft, there is no man of experience that vrill denic 
but dogs do excell in outward fence, for they will fmell bet- 
ter then we, and therby hunt the game when they fee it not. 
Befides, they get the fight of it better then we, and are 
wonderful! quiclcc of hearing. But let vs come to fpeech, 
which is either inv/ard or outward. Now that t!iey haue 
outward fpeech I make no queftion, although we cannot 
vnderftand them, for tliey baric as good old Saxon as may 
be; yea they haue it in more daintie maner tha we, for tliey 
!iaue one Icind of voice in the chafe, and another wlien they 
arc beaten, and another when they fight. That they haue 
the inward fpeech of m.ind, which is chiefly conuerfant in 
thofe things wliich agree witli our nature, or are moft a- 
gainft it, in knowing thofe things which fland vs moft in 
fteed, & attaining thofe vertues which belong to our pro- 
per life, and are moft conuerfant in our affeftions, thus I 
proue: firft and formoft he choofeth thofe things that are 
c5modious vnto him, and fliunneth the contrarie : He Icno- 
weth what is good for his diet, and feelceth about for it. At 
the fight of a whip he runneth away like a theef from a hue 
and crie. Neither is he an idle fellow that Hues like a tren- 
cher Flic vpon the fweat of other mens browes, but hath 
naturaliie a trade to get his lining by, as namely the arte 
of hunting and Conicatching, which thefe late books go a- 
bout to difcredit. Yea, there be of them as of men of a!l oc- 
cupations, fome Caricrs, and they will fetch; fome water- 
men, and they will diue and fwim when you bid them ; fome 
butchers, and they will kill fheepe ; fome cookes, and they 
turne the fpit. Neither are they void of vertue; for if that be 



haunting Conicatchers. 

luftice that giues euery one his deferts, out of doubt dogs 
are not deftitute of it : for they fawne vpon their famihar 
friends and acquaintance; they defend thofc from danger 
that haue deferued well of them, and reuenge them of 
ftrangers, and fuch as either haue, or go about to do them 
iniurie. Then if they haue luftice, they haue all the ver- 
tues, fmce this is an Axioma in Philofophy, that one ver- 
tuc cannot be feparated from another. 

Further, we fee they are full of magnanimitie, in in- 
countring their enemies. They are v/ife, as Homer wit- 
neffeth, who entreating of the returne of Vlyffes to his 
owne houfe, affirmeth that all his houfliold had forgotten 
him but his dogge Argus, and him neither could Pallas by 
her fubtill arte deceiue in the alteration of his body, nor 
his twentie yeares abfence in his beggers weeds delude a- 
nic whit, but he ftil retained his forme in his fantafie, which 
as it appeared was better then any mans of that time. 

According to Chryfippus, they are not ignorant of that 
excellent facultie of Logicke, for he faith that a dogge by 
canuafmg and ftudy doth obtaine the knowledge to diftin- 
guifh betweene three feuerall things, as for example, where 
three waies meete, and of thcfe three hath ftaid at tvv'o of 
them, by which he perceiueth the game hath not gone, pre- 
fently without more adoe hee runneth violently on the 
third waie: which doth argue (faith Chryfippus) as if hee 
fliould reafon thus. Either hee vrent this way, or that 
way, or yonder waie: but neither that waie, nor yonder 
waie, therefore this wa}'. Againe, when they arc ficke, 
they knowe what difeafe they haue, and deuife howe they 
may eafe themfelues of their griefe; if one ftrike them in- 
to the flefli with a ftake, this policy they vfe to get it out. 
They traile one of their feet vp5 the ground, and gnaweth 
the flefh where the wound is round about with their teeth, 
vntill they haue drawne it clcanc out. If they chaunce to 
haue anie vlcer, becaufe vlcers kept foule are hardlie cu- 
red, they licke the fore with their tongues, and keepe it 
cleane. And wonderfull well doc they obferue the pre- 

Greenes Ghofl 

ccpt of Hippocrates that the onclie medicine for the foote is 
to reft, for if they hauc anie hurt in their fecte, they beare 
them vp, and as much as lies in them, take care they be not 
ftirrcd: when vnprofitable humours trouble them, they 
cate an hearbe, whereby they vomite vp all that is offen- 
fiue vnto them, and fo recouers their health againe. How 
thinke you my mafters, are thefe vnreafonable creatures, 
that hauc all this naturall reafon in them? No, though 
they are beafts, yet are they not as other are, inhumane: 
for they hauc more humanitie then any other beafts Avhat- 
foeuer. But of them I have faid enough, & therfore I will 
proccede to my former argument: wherein for your better 
delight, I will acquaint you with a true ftorie latelic per- 
formed in Poules Church by a couple of Cutpurfes. The 
matter was of fuch truth, as I could for neede fet downe 
the Gentlemans name, and alfo the names of all the a- 
clors therein, but I crauc pardon, becaufe the Gentleman 
was of good place and credit, and for more affurance my 
felfe was prefent : the whole matter fell out as followeth. 

How a Countrie Gentleman walkinc: in Ponies had 

his purfe cut by a new kind of conueyance, 

and in the end by the like wilie 

beguily got it againe. 

A Countrie Gentleman of fome credite walking in 
Powlcs, as tearmers are wont that wait on their law- 
yers, was feene by a couple of light fingred companions, 
that had got fome gentlemanfliip vpon them by priuie bi- 
ting in y^ dark, to have fome ftore of crownes in his purfe 
coacht in a faire trunke flop, like a boulting hutch. Alas, 
they were mortall, and could not choofe but bee tempted 
with fo glorious an obic6l. For what male not gold doe 
with him that hath neither money nor credit ? Wherefore 
in verie zeale of a bad fpirit, they confpired how to make a 
breach in his pocket, and poffeffe themfelues of their pray. 
In the end it was concluded (as neceffitie is neuer with- 


haunting Conicatchers. 

out flratagems) that the one fliould go behind him, while the 
other gaue the ftroke that fliould deuide Hfe and foule. As 
they determined, fo they brought it to paffe, for the good old 
fellow walking verie foberly in one of the fide lies, deui- 
fing where to dine to faue the odde three pence, fodain- 
ly one of them ftept behind him and clapt his hands be- 
fore his eyes, faying : Who am I ? Who am I ? while the 
other gaue the purfe the gentle ierke, and beguiled his 
purfe of the gilt : which done, hee went fneaking awaie 
like a dog that had wearied a sheep. The good minded Gen- 
tlema that was thus muffled, thinking that it had bin one 
of his acquaintance, that plaid bo peepe with him after 
that fort, cried to him. Now for the paffion of God, who are 
you? Avho are you? Tell me I praie you who are you? For 
I fliall neuer reckon while I Hue. O, quoth the Cauallero 
Cutpurfe, you fliall know by and by, and therewith pluc- 
king awaie his hands, looked him full in the face & laugh- 
ed, but by and by fbarting afide, as if he had com.mitted an 
errour, God forgiue me (quoth he) what haue I done, I 
crie you hartily mercie, I haue miftaken you for my ac- 
quaintance, one that is fo like you, as one peaze is like a- 
nother : and therefore I pray you pardon me. No harme 
done, no harme done, quoth the Gentleman, and fo they 
departed. Sinior who was to deuide his bootie where his 
companion attended him, and my neighbour Mumpfimus 
to tyrannize on Buls pudding-pies for his fixe pence : fliort 
tale to make, his hungrie bodie being refrefhed, and euc- 
rie one fatiffied, there entred in a dumbe fhewe, the recko- 
ning with a cleane trencher in his hand verie orderly, as 
who fliould fay. Lay your hand on the booke. On him at- 
tended a well fed Tapfter in a fliining fute of well liquo- 
red fuftian, wheron w^as cngrauen the triumphs of many 
full platter, with his apron on his fhoulder, and his knife 
vnder his girdle. At which fight eucry man began to draw, 
and my honeft penifather thought to droppe tefters with 
the reft : but woe alas, his breeches were like the bottom- 
leffe pit of hell, for there was not one croffe to be found. 

E Then 

Greenes Ghoft 

Then began he to fume and chafe, and run vp and downc 
hke a mad man, faying, Well a day yt eucr I was borne 
Who am I ? who am I ? Whereat the reft of the Gentle- 
men wondring, he vp and told them the whole ftorie of his 
miffortune, as is afore recited. And faid, now I know who 
it was that faid. Who am I ? Avho am I ? for in troth he was 
a cutpurfe. But here did he not ccafe or fpcnd much time in 
fmging a Dc profundis ouer his cmptie pocket, where was 
nought els faue Lent and dcfolation, but iumbled his 
braines together like ftones in a bladder, and toft ouer his 
thoughts as a Tailer doth his flireds when he hath loft his 
needle, to find out fome meanes to fetch home his ftraied 
purfe, and to be euen Avith thofe vndermining Pioners. 
In the end his pillow and prefent pouertie put this poli- 
cie into his head. The next day early in the morning he 
went into Poules in the fame apparell, and walking iuft in 
the fame place where he loft the mainc chance the day be- 
fore, hauing bought him a faire new purfe with white 
ftrings and great taffels, and filled the fame with braffe 
counters, and thruft it into the flop of his hofe, as he was 
wont, letting the ftrings thereof hang out for a trainc. 
Well, fo it fell out, that he had fcarce fetcht three turnes, but 
a poore woman that had the fhaking ague in her head 
came to aflce his charitie : he glad of anie occafion to boaft 
his counterfeit wealth, to entrap the eyes of thofe hungrie 
efpials, gaue her a penie, and therewith drew forth a num- 
ber of counters, making fliev/ as if they had bdene French 
crownes : which was prefently perceiued by Timothy touch 
and take, that had beene in the a6lion the day before, who fit- 
ting vnder a piller, leaning like one tvv'ixt fleeping and wa- 
king, fell into a great longing, how he might haue that 
purfe alfo to beare the other companie. Still the olde 
Snudge went plodding in one path, and euer looked vnder 
his ouerhanged moffie eye-broAves, to fee who came neere 
him, or once offer to iuftle him. He had befide at cither end 
of the lie on of his men to watch, for feare any more, Who 
am I.^ ftnild come behind him. At laft out fteps my nimble 



hauntinor Conlcatchers. 


knaue, and running haftily by him like fomc prentife, that 
had beene fent of an errand, he fliced it fmoothly away, fo 
as the gentleman neuer perceiued it. But one of his men 
who had his fenfes both of feeing and feeling better then 
his mafter, marked when he gaue him the gentle gleeke, 
and whither he went when hee had obtained his bootie : 
whereupon dogging him to a Cookes flioppe in Thames 
ftreet ; to which place alfo the Gentlema followed aloofe off. 
He there laid hands on him, and challenged him for a Cut- 
purfe, faying, he had feene him doe fuch a thing in Poules, 
and told him alfo from whom he tooke it. He fwore and fta- 
red, and fbood at vtter defiance with him. And the better to 
outface the matter, his partner, who being then lodged in 
the fame houfe, came downe and fell in tearmcs of doing 
the Gentleman wrong, and that he fliould anfwer him, or 
any man els. And (quoth he) if thou wert well ferued thou 
fliouldefl: be ftabd for offering to difcredit him thus at his 
lodging. Meane while that thefe matters were thus dif- 
puting, and the poore feruingmans death with manie 
oathes vowed, in came his mafter, who fpying, Who am I ? 
to ftand vpon his pantofles fo proudly, ftraight tooke him 
afide, and told him a tale in his eare, that did him fmall 
good at the heart, and faid flatly hee was the man, and 
no other whom he fought for, and either he would haue re- 
ftitution for his purfe at his hands, or they would trie 
a conclufion at Tyborne. At which fpeech their courage 
was fomewhat abated : and in the end it fo fell out, to a- 
uoid further trouble they refiored him both the purfes with 
quietnes, and made him a fulificient recompence for the 
trefpaffe. Thus at that time they efcaped, and all parties 
were pleafed : but fhortly after they were taken for fuch an 
other fa6l, for which they were both condemned and execu- 
ted at Tyborne. 

Now Gentlemen, haue you not heard a pretic pranke 
of Wilie beguily, where the cunning Cutpurfe was pin- 
ched in his owne pra6tife .-' fure I thinke neuer was poore 
Nip fo nipt before. Wherefore I wifli all thofe that arc of 

E 2 that 


Greenes Ghoft 

that facultie to be carefull of the right Nip, who if he bee 
neuer fo cunning in his arte, yet at one time or other hee 
maie hap to mecte with Bui, and his fturdie lade, on whom 
if he chance to ride v^-ith his necke fnarled in an hempen 
halter, he is like to receiue fo fliarpe a nip, that it will for 
euermore marre his drinking place. 

A notable exploit performed by a Lift. 

npHere was not long fmce one of our former profeffi- 
-■" on, hauing intelligence of a Citizen that inuited three 
or foure of his friends to dinner, came a little before din- 
ner time, and marked when the gueftes were all come : 
when they were all come, as he thought, knowing the good- 
man of the houfc fafe (for he was not yet come from the ex- 
change) fteps vp the ftaires boldly, and comes into the 
roome where the guefbs were : when he comes in he falutes 
them, and aflces if his cofen were not yet come from the 
Exchange. They told him no. No (faith he) me thinks he is 
verie long, it is paft twelue of the clocke. Then after a 
turne or two. In faith Gentlemen (quoth my new come 
gueft) it were good to doe fomething whereat we may bee 
merie againft my cofen comes home, and to that intent 
I will take this Salt and hide it, that when hee miffeth it, 
wc fliall fee v/hat he will fay to my cofen his wife : fo hee 
tooke the Salt, and put it in his pocket, and walked a 
turne or two more about the roome, within a while when yc 
other guefls were bufie in talk, he fteps downe the ftaires 
faining to make water ; but when he was downe, he tur- 
ned downe Theeucs allie, and neuer returned againe. The 
Citizen when he came home bid his friends welcome, and 
anon he mift the Salt that fliould be fet on the table, called 
his wife to know if there were neuer a Salt in the houfe : 
His wife bufie about dinner, tooke her hufband vp, as 
women at fuch times will do, when they are a little trou- 
bled (for a little thing troubles them God wot) and afked 
him if he had no eyes in his head. No, nor you wife (quoth 



haunting Conicatchers. 

hee) if you fay there be any now : So there pafl many 
flirewd and hot words betweene them. At length the 
guefts vnwilHng they fhould difagree on fo fmall a trifle, 
they vp and told how one came in and aflced for his cofen, 
and tooke away the Salt, meaning to make a little mirth 
at dinner. But when they faw he returned no more, they 
contented themfelues with patience, and went to dinner, 
as men at fuch times vfc to do, with heauy hearts and cold 

^ I "'Here are a ccrtaine band of Raggamuffin Prentifes 
-^ about the towne, that will abufe anie vpon the fmal- 
left occafion that is, and fuch men (whom they neuer 
came to the credit in all their lines to make cleane their 
fhooes) thefc dare neuer meete a man in the face to auouch 
their rogarie, but forfooth they muft haue the help of fome 
other their complices. Of this bafc fort you fliall common- 
ly find them at Playhoufes on holy dayes, and there they 
will be playing their parts, or at fome rout, as the pulling 
downe of Baudie houfes, or at fome good exploit or other, 
fo that if you need helpe, or you thinkc your felfe not able 
to make your part good with anie that you owe a grudge 
to, no more but repaire to one of thefe, and for a canne of 
Ale they will do as much as another for a crowne : & thefe 
make no more confcience to beat or lame one, whom they 
neuer before faw nor knew, then the knights of the poafts 
when they are feed out of Poules to fweare falfly. 

There are another fort of Prentifes, that when they fee 
a Gentlewoman or a countriman minded to buy anie 
thing, they will fawne vpon them with their cap in hand, 
with what lacke you Gentlewoman ? what lacke you 
Countriman ? See what you lacke. The Gentlewoman 
perufing diuers commodities, findeth nothing that per- 
haps likes her : then going away, they come off with their 
ouerworne frumps. Will you buy nothing Gentlewo- 
man .'' Its no maruell you fhould fee fuch choice of good 
ware. Then they begin to difcommend her perfon to their 

E 3 next 


Greenes Ghoft 

next neighbors, as good as themfelues, and at next word, 
Send a fine dogge after her. Thefe maie bee Hkened to 
currifli Spaniels, that when a man comes into the houfe 
will fawne vpon him, but before he goes forth, if hee take 
not heed, will catch him by the fliinnes. But if they meete 
with a countric-man, he is the fitteft man in the world to 
deale vpon. They will afke him iuft twife fo much as the 
ware is worth. The plaine fimple man offers within a 
verle little of his price, as they vfe in the countrie : which 
the Apprentife takes, and fweares it was not his for that 
money, and fo makes the poore man a right Conie. I think 
few in the Exchange w.ill account this for a Conicatching 
tricke. But if the countriman leaues them and goes his 
waie without buying anie thing, either for that hee likes 
not the ware, or that it is of too high a price : then will 
they come off with, Do you heare Countriman, will you 
giue me thus much, and leaue your blew coate for a pawn 
for the reft .'' or they will bid him fell his fword and buy a 
paire of fliooes ? or fuch like fcoffing girds, that the poore 
man fometimes could find in his heart to giue all the mo- 
ney in his purfe, that he had them in Finfburie fields, that 
hee might reuenge himfelfe on them for abufing him : a 
verie great abufe to their maifters and chapmen. 

To this focietie maie be coupled alfo another fraternity, 
viz. Water-rats, Watermen I meane, that will be rea- 
die & very diligent for anie man, vntil they can get them 
to their boates, but when they come to land to paie their 
fare, if you paie them not to their ownc contentments, 
you fliall be fure of fome gird or other, yea and perhaps if 
they know they haue an Affe to deale with, flop his hat or 
his cloake, till he haue paid them what they lift ; but thefe 
arc moft commonlic fcruants and apprentifcs : for the or- 
der is, that for euerie tweluc pence they carne their mai- 
fter allowes them two pence, fo then the more they get, 
whether by hook or crookc, the more think they their gaine 
comes in. But this fort now and then meete with their 
mates, who in fteed of a penie more in filuer, fend them to 


hauntine Coiilcatchers. 


the Chirurgians with two penie worth of forrow. 

But what need I to fpend time in deciphering thefe com- 
mon companions? Thefe few I hauc particularly named, 
but thinke you there are no more of this kind ? But I let 
paffe Carmen and Dreymen, as verie knaues as the reft, 
becaufe thefe are better knowne then I can fet them forth: 
I meane not at this time, nor in this Treatife to fet forth 
the guiles and deceits accuftomed in all trades and my- 
fteries from the chiefeft trade to the bafeft, but will con- 
tent my felfe for this time, with that that hath beene alrea- 
die dilated, intending in fome other Treatife, at one time 
or other to relate in briefe what hath beene at large too long 
put in praclife. 

In the meane time curteous Citizens, let me exhort 
you to become good exaples to your family: for as the ma- 
fter is, so commonly is the feruant, as witnes the old ver- 
fes in the Sheppards Calender in September. 

Sike as the Sheppards, fike beene her flieepe. 

And be fure, if thy feruant fee thee giuen to fpending, and 
vnchaft lining, there looke thy feruant, when thou thinkeft 
he is about thy bufmeffe, not onely fpends his time vainly, 
but that money, which by thy care in ftaying at home thou 
mighteft haue faued. Such iollie fhauers, that are deepe 
flafhers of others, mens hides, haue I knowne (more is 
the pitie) to fit vp all night, fome at Cardes and Dice, 
fome quaffing and fwilling at the Tauerne, and other a- 
mong their trulles, fpending in one night fome twentie 
fliillings, and thirtie fhillings often: fome againe that 
can maintaine to themfelues a wench all the yeare, and 
then they muft filch and purloine \vhole peeces of ftuffe for 
their gownes and peticoats, befides great ftore of mony : 
But thefe are fuch that can with a wet finger, and by rca- 
fon of abundance of ware purloine their maifters goods, & 
not eafily be efpied. But be fure at one time or other fuch 
villains wil come forth : for the pot goes fo oft to the \\-ater, 
that at laft it comes home crackt. And take this for a 



Greenes Ghoft 

principle and general rule, that whofoeucr he be that giues 
himfelfe to this damnable finne of luft, let him be affured, 
as fure as he had it alrcadie, that a great puniflimcnt han- 
geth ouer his head. Therefore it behooues the maifter to 
be wife in gouerning his fcruants, that they may bee as 
markes for their fcruants to flioote at, to fee how their fcr- 
uants bee addi6lcd and giuen, and not to be fterne and fc- 
uere towards them, but rather keepe them in, that they 
wander not abroad more then ncceffitie forceth, rcmem- 
bring that rule that Ouid giueth. 

Parcc pucr JliviuUs & fortius vfcrc lor is. 

Spare the whip, raine them hard : for fuch as arc growne 
to yeares will hardly endure blowes, wherefore the rai- 
ning them from their defires is the next way in my mind 
to bring them to good. 

But here is the griefc that thofe that fliould giue light 
are darke ; thofe that fliould be guides haue need to be lead ; 
thofe that fhould inftrucl to fobrietie, are inducers to vani- 
tie, according to thofe verfes in Male, 

Thofe faitors littell regarden their charge, 
While they letting their flieep runne at large, 
Paffen their time that fliould be fparcly fpent, 
In luflineffe and wanton nierlment. 
Thilke fame be Sheppards for the diuels fleed, 
That playen, &c. 

Againe, what confcience they vfc in bargaining and fel- 
ling, witneffe the whole world, according to Diggon in 

They fettcn to fiile their fliops of fliame, 
And maken a market of their good name. 
The flieppards there robbcn one another. 
And layen baites to beguilde her brother. 



haunting Conicatchers. 

And againe, 

Or they bine falfe or full of couetife, 

And caflen to compaffe many wrong emprife. 

In fine, to conclude with that which we haue fo long 
ftood vpon, namely with vncleanneffe, how hard it is for 
men to bee reclaimed from it : and as it is pernicious to 
all generally, fo particularly to young men that haue 
newlie fet vp for themfelues, and haue as it were new- 
ly entred into the world, foone male they cafb awaie them 
felues, except they looke the better about them : but mofl 
odious for fuch that haue wiues, with whom they may fo- 
lace themfelues. Pitie it is that fuch cannot be noted a- 
boue the reft, it fhewes an inordinate luft. And nowe it 
comes in my mind, I will impart with a tricke ferued 
vpon a maried man, and a tradefman by a good wench, as 
they call them, reported and heard from her owne mouth 
not long fmce. The parties names I will conceale, be- 
caufe fome of them are of fome credite, although fome- 
what blemifhed by this flcarre : and it was on this maner. 

How a Citizen was ferued by a Curtizan. 

*" I ^Here was one Mounfieur Libidinofo dwelling at the 
■*■ figne of Incontinencie, hauing cafb vp his accounts 
for the weeke paft (for it was Saturday night) after fup- 
per refolued with himfelfe to walkc, which way he cared 
not, but as his ftafife fell, fo would he wend : by chance it 
fell Weflward, and Weftward he went, vntill he came 
to Whitefriers. When he came thither he bethought him- 
felfe, and held it a deed of charitie to fee fome of his old ac- 
quaintance, whom hee had not vifited a long time before : 
But they according to the ancient cuftome were remo- 
ued, for they vfe not to flay long in a place. He hearing 
that, made no more ado but fel aboord with one that came 
next to hand, as good as the beft, one that had beene tried, 
and fuch a one as would not fhrinke at a fliower : little 

F in- 


Greenes Ghoft 

intreatic Icrucs, and vp they goc. When after their 
beaftly fport and pleafure Mounfieur Libid. heat of luft 
was fomeA\'hat affwaged, and ready to goc, feeling his 
pocket for a vencrcall remuneration finds nothing but a 
Tefter, or at Icaft fo little, that it was not fufficient to 
pleafc dame Pleafure for her hire. He protefted and vow- 
ed he had no more about him now : for (faid he) when I 
came forth I neur thought Avhat money I had about me. 
My Ladie would not beleeue Monf. Libid. a great while, 
but fcarched and feeled for more coine, but at that time 
file was fruftrate of her expe6lation : fhe feeing no rcme- 
die, fet as good a countenance on the matter as flie could, 
and told him flie would be contented for that time, hoping 
hee would bee more beneficiall to her hereafter. They 
were both contented : where no fooncr hee is gone 
downe the ftaires, but fliee whips off her gowne, and 
puts on- a white Avaftcoate with a trice, and fo dogs M. 
Libidiiiof. home to his houfe, and taking a perfect view of 
his houfe and figne, returnes back againe. On IMonday 
morning fhc came to his houfe verie orderly in her gown 
with her handbafl^et in her hand, where flie found Monf 
Libid. and his wife in the fliop : when flie came in fhe cal- 
led for this fort and that fort of lace, vntill flic had called 
for as much ware as came to twentie fliillings : when 
fhe was ready to goe, flie whifpered my Gentleman in 
the eare, and afl-ced him. If he be remembred how fleight- 
ly fucli a time he rewarded her kindneffe, but now I am 
fatiffied for this time. M. Libid. vras in a wonderfull 
ftrcight, and gaue her not a word for an anfwer, fearing 
his wife fliould knoA\'e anie thing. His wife noting her 
whifpering in her hufbands eare, and feeing no mony paid, 
afked her hufband Avhen flie was gone, who flie was. Hee 
verie fmoothly told her, fliee was a very lioneft cutters 
wife, and that hee knew her a long time to bee a good 
paymaifter. This anfwer contented his wife : but ful well 
I know he was not cotented in his mind al the day after. 



hauntine Conicatchers. 


See here hov/ a man may bee vnawares ouertakeii 
by thefe filthie Pitchbarrels. Then let this example teach 
thee to forgoe their allurements, leafl thou in time be de- 
filed with the like blot, or ouerplunged in a deeper bog : 

Fcelix quifacit alicna pcricida cautum. 

For thefe night birdes not vnlike the Syrens, the more 
you frequent them, the more you fliall be intangled, accor- 
ding to thefe verfes, Diggon in Sept. 

For they beene like foule v.-agmoires ouergrafl, 

That if thy gallage once flicketh fafl, 

The more to wind it out thou doeft fwincke, 

Thou mought ay deeper and deeper fmcke. 

Yet better leaue of with littell loffe, 

Then by much wreflling to leefe the groffe. 

Thefe may be motiues to all to auoide fuch infectious 
plague-fores: but how hard it is to get vp a tyred iade 
when he is downe, efpecially in the dirt euery man 
knowes, and men wil haue their fwinge do all what they 
can, according to Thcnot in February. 

Mud not the world wend in his common courfe, 
From good to bad; and from bad to worfe; 
From worfe vnto that is worfl of all, 
And then returne to his former fall. 

But for my part I am refolued and wifli all men of the 
like mind fticking my flafife by Peirfe in Llaie. 

Sheppard, I lifl no accordance make 
With fheppard that does the right way forfake, 
And of the twaine if choife were to me 
Had leuer my foe then my friend to be. 

F 2 The 


Greenes Ghofl 


and deceltfull pranks of Doctor 

Notable fellow of this trade well ftric- 
ken in yeares, one that was free of the 
Nitmongers, trauelled with his boy in- 
to Yorkefliire. And hauing no mony in 
his purfe, nor other meanes to relieue 
himfelfe but plainc fliifting, grewe into 
vtter defpairc of his eftate, by reafon hec had worne all 
cofonagcs threcd bare, and made the vttcrmofl: of his 
wit that was poffible. Wherefore complaining himfelf 
to his truflie page, that had beene patncr with him both 
in weale and woe, and whom hee had brought vp in his 
occupation, and taught to be as fubtill as himfelfe: but 
Maifter (quoth he) take no care, for when all is gone 
and nothing left, well fare the Dagger with the dudge- 
on haft. I am young and haue crochets in my head: I 
warrant you, while I haue my fine fenfes we will not 
begge. Goe you and take vp your lodging in the faireft 
Inne in the towne, and call in luftily, fparing for no cofl, 
and let me alone to pay for all. With this refolution they 
went into York citic, where feeing a verie faire Tauern, 
readie to outface the, according to the boyes aduife, they 
put into it, & called for a roomc, and none might content 
them but the bcft chamber in the houfe. Then lacke of 
the clocke houfe fummoned the Chambcrlaine before 



haiintine Conicatchers, 


him, and tooke an inuentorie what extraordinarie proui- 
fion of vi6luals they had for dinner, telhng them his 
maifter was no common man, nor would he be plea- 
fed with anie groffe kind of fare. The Tapfter, who 
hoping of gaine, feemed verie feruiceable, and told him 
he fliould want nothing. And although they had at that 
time fundrie ftrangers, by rcafon the chiefe luftics of 
the fliire fate there the fame day about a Commiffion, 
yet promifed to giue \vhat attendance he might. Thus 
did the Crack-rope triumph, and walking in the yard 
while dinner was preparing, hamered in his head, & caft 
an eye about the houfe to fee if anie occafion were offe- 
red for him to worke vpon. At laft going vp a paire of 
ftayres, hee fpied in a faire great Chamber where the 
Comm.iffioners fate, a fide fettle, whereon good ftore of 
plate flood. Yea, thought he.'' and it fliall go hard but He 
make vp my market. So into the chamber clofely hee 
ftept, not beeing perceiued by any man, couertly con- 
ueyed away vnder his cloake one of the greateft gilt 
goblets, and went immediately on the backfide of the 
houfe, where fpying an old well, hcc flung the fame, and 
went his way vp to his mafter, to v/hom hee difcouered 
what he had done, intreating him the better to furnifli 
out the Pageant, to change his name, and call himfelfc 
Doclor Pinchbacke. 

This done, he went downe into the kitchin to fee if 
dinner were readie: where the goodman of the houfe 
began to queftion with him what his Maifter was, and 
who they called him. Sir, quoth he, Do6lor Pinchbacke. 
What, is he a Do6lor of Phyficke quoth the hoft.'' Yea 
marie, quoth the boy, and a fpeciall good one. With that 
anfwer he ceafed queftioning any further, but fent vp 
meat to his dinner, and went vp himfelfe to bid him 

Dinner being done and the other guefts ready to 
rife, the Goblet fodainly was miffed, and great inquiry 

F "^ made 


Greenes Ghoft 

made for it, but at no hand it VvOuld be found: all the 
fcruaunts were examined, the -houfe was thoroughlie 
fearched, none of the Gentlemen had it. This newe 
found Do6lor fware hee fawe it not, the boy denied 
it alfo, yet ftill the goodman and the good wife kept 
a great ftirre for it, and were readie to weepe for ve- 
rie anger that they fliould keep fuch knaucs about them 
as had no more care, but retchlefly let a cuppe of nine 
pounds bee ftollen, and no man knew which waie. Then 
the hofh made great offers to haue it againe, which the 
boy hearing, faid, if they could cntreate his IMaifter to" 
take the paines, he could caft a figure, and fetch it againe 
with heaue and ho. But not a word (quoth he) that I told 
you fo. 

The good man hearing that, ranne vp in all haft, and 
befought Maifter Do6lor for the paffion of God to fland 
his friend, or els he was vndone. So it is, quoth he, that 
I vnderftand of your great learning and knowledge, 
and that by a fpeciall gift in Aftronomie that God hath 
giuen, you can tell of maruellous matters, and helpe 
againe to things that are loft. I praie you as euer 
you came of a ^voman fliewe mee a little feate about 
my cuppe: and though I haue but fmall ftore of mo- 
ney, yet will I beftowe fortie fliillings on you for your 
labour. Maifter Do6lor at the firft made ftrange of 
the matter, and feemed verie loth to deale in it, by 
reafon of the daunger of the lawe: yet for that he fee- 
med to bee an honeft man, and it grieued him that 
anie fuch thing fiiould happen whileft hee ^^■as in his 
houfe, hee would ftraine a little with his cunning to 
rclecue him in the beft forte, not fo much for his mo- 
ney as for his friendftiip, and Avore hee would not doe 
it for any other for a hundred pounds, therefore hee defi- 
red him to leaue him to himfelfe, and to take order that 
no man came to trouble him for fome two houres fpace, 
and he fliould fee what he would do for him. 



haunting Conicatchers. 

Two hourcs hec fbaycd alone by himfelfe tofling 
him by a good fire till he fweat againe, then paintnig 
his face with a deadifli colour, which hee caried al- 
waies about with him for fuch a purpofe, and then 
calling vp the hofte, told him that hee had laboured 
fore for him, and almoft indaungered himfelfe in vn- 
dertaking the a6lion, yet by good fortune hee had fi- 
niflied his bufmeffe, and found where the cuppe was. 
Haue you not a Avell (quoth hee) on the backe fide of 
your houfe that ftands thus, and thus, for mine ownc 
part I was neuer there (that I can tell of) to fee. Yes 
that I haue, fayd the Hofte. Well (faid Maifter Do- 
ctor) in the bottomc of that well is your cuppe: where- 
fore goe fearch prefently, and you fhall finde my words 
true. The goodman with all expedition did as hee 
willed him, and drew the well dric: at laft hee fpied his 
Goblet where it lay. It was no neede to bid him take 
it vp, for in his owne perfon hee went downe in the 
bucket: and full lightly to Maifter Do6tour Pinch- 
packes chamber hee trudged, and caried him fortie fliil- 
lings, offering him befides a moneths boord in requitall 
of his great curtefie. This counterfeit forfooth would 
feeme to refufe nothing, but there lay and fed vpon the 
ftocke, whileft my goodman hofte did nothing but fill 
the countrie Avith his praife. 

Not manie dales paffed but a Gentleman of good 
credite drawne thither by the ordinarie report, came to 
vifit him, who defirous to make triall of his cunning, 
he craued to knowe of him (his wife then beeing big 
with child) whether it was a man childe or a woman 
childe fhe went Avithall.'' Hec anfwered he could fay lit- 
tle thereto except he faw her naked. 

The Gentleman although hee thought it was no 
vfuall thing for a man to fee a woman naked, yet 
Phyfitions haue more priuiledge then others, and 



Greenes Ghoft 

they as well as Midwiues arc admitted to any fccrets. 
Wherefore he perfwaded his wife to difclofe her felfe 
to him, and to difpence with a little inconuenience, fo 
they may be refolued of fo rare a fecret. But this was 
Do6lor Pinchbackes drift, hee thought to haue fhifted 
the Gentleman off by this extraordinaric impofition, 
thinking he would rather haue furceafed his fute, then 
anie waie haue fuffered him to fee his wife naked. In 
conclufion a chamber was prepared warme and clofe, in 
v/hich flie fliewcd her felfe, & twife walked vp and down 
the chamber naked in the prefence of M. Do6lor and her 
hufband, who demanded M. Do6lors anfwer to his for- 
mer queftion, which was as followeth: Quoth he, from 
meward it is a boy, and to me ward it is a girle: other 
anfwer they could get none of him. Wherefore the Gen- 
tleman was greatly offended againft him, calling him 
Affe, Dolt, Patch, Cockefcombe, Knaue, and all the 
bafe names he could deuife. But awaie went maifter 
Do6lor as fkilfuU in thofe cafes as a blind man when he 
throweth his ftaffe: and durft not anfwer the Gentle- 
man one word. And the Gentleman greatly repen- 
ted him that he had been fo foolifli to fhew his wife in that 
fort before fo fottifh a companion. 

About foure dayes after the Gentlewoman fell in la- 
bour, and was deliuered of a boy and a girle: where- 
at the Gentleman remembring the blunt anfwer of 
the Doflor, and finding it to be true, was greatly aflo- 
niflied, fuppofing indeed hee had mightily wronged the 
Do6lor: to whom he went immediately crauing par- 
don for his former follie, fhewing himfelfe verie forow- 
full for his fault, and offered him in recompence of a- 
mends all the fauour he might poffibly doe him, gran- 
ting to him his houfe at commandement, and his boord 
for fo long time as he would continue with him. Wher- 
upon in figne of loue and amitie he went and foiour- 
ned at the Gentlcmans houfe: Whereupon the Do6tors 



hauntinof Conicatchers. 


credit ftill more and more began to increafe, fo that all 
the countrie round about told no fmall tales of the great 
cunning of Doftor Pinchbacke, to whom they reforted 
early and late. 

It fortuned foone after there was a Faire neere to 
the Gentlemans houfe, where the people diuerfly tal- 
ked of the Do6lors fkill and cunning, and that he could 
doe anie thing, or tell anie thing that was done in anie 
place. Naie (quoth a plaine Countriman) I will ven- 
ture twentie Nobles that hee fhall not doe it. I will 
my felfe goe perfonally to him, and hold fomething in 
my hand, and if hee tell me what it is I will lofe my 
money. I take you, fayd one or two, and the wager be- 
ing layd, awaie they went towards the Gentlemans 
houfe: and pafling thorough a meadow, the man tooke 
vp a Grafhopper out of the graffe, and put it into his 
hand, fo clofe that no man might perceiue it. Then for- 
ward they went, and met with Maifter Do6lor, and 
they defired him to fatiffie them of that fecret which 
was vpon his credite, to tell them what one of the com- 
panie held in his hand. Whereunto the Do6lor was 
loth to anfwer, confidering he had no fuch fkill as peo- 
ple bruted abroade: neuertheleffe he caft in his mind, 
how he might excufe the matter by fome pretie Height, 
if he fhould gueffe amiffe, and therfore concluded in this 
ieft, he called to mind that his owne name was Gra- 
lliopper, and if (quoth he) I take him by the hand, I may 
say hee hath a grafhopper in his hand, and yet I may 
iuflly defend it for a truth. Whereupon the Do6lor ta- 
king him by the hand, faid he had a Grafhopper in his 
hand: which beeing opened was found true. Whereat 
the Cuntrimen wondred, and went their wayes. Some 
faid hee was but a cofoning knaue: others reported 
what wonders hee could performe: Some faid he could 

G goe 


Greenes Ghoft 

goe round about the world in a moment, and that he 
walked euerie night in the aire with fpirites : fome 
faid hee had a familiar: thus the people gaue their cen- 
fure; fome liking, and others mifliking him. And in a 
word, fo manie men, fo manie mindes, but the grea- 
ter part of the countrey admired his deepe knowledge, 
and publifhed his excellent learninge, fo that he became 
famous amongfl the people, and the Gentleman not a 
little proud of fo worthy a gueft: in fo much that ha- 
uing one onely daughter, whom he loued moft entier- 
lie, and as parents moft defire their children fhould 
match themfelues with fuch, by whom they hope pre- 
ferment fliould come, on a dale brake his minde to 
the Do6lour in his daughters behalfe, affuring him 
hee fhould not onely finde her a louing and dutifull wife, 
but would giue him foure hundred pounds, and make 
him affurance of all his land, which was worth (fayd 
hee) better then two hundred markes a yeare after his 
deceafe, if fo it would pleafe his worfhip to accept his 
kind offer, which hee affured him proceeded of meere 
loue. The Do6lour a while coylie refufed the Gen- 
tlemans offer, but beeing earneftly entreated of the 
Gentleman, he anfwered him to this effect. 

Sir, for your great friendfhip hitherto and vnex- 
pe6led kindneffe, at this time I cannot but confeffe 
my felfe much indebted to you: and becaufe you are 
fo importunate with me to marie your daughter (al- 
though I protefl it is not for my profite) I doe willing- 
ly take her to my wife: for I haue (faith hde) refufed 
many faire and perfonable Gentlewomen in 'mine 
owne countrey with large dowries: but to make you 
part of amends for your vndeferued kindneffe, I here 
am content to yeeld to your requeft. The Gentle- 
man humbly thanked him, and ^prolonged not the 



haunting- Conicatchers. 

time I warrant you, but with great expedition hafted 
the manage daie : where with great feafting and ioy 
with his friends they paffed that day with much pleafure 
and muficke. 

The Do6lour about a moneth after defired the Gen- 
tleman for his wiues portion, which the Gentleman 
willingly paid him. When two or three dayes were 
paffed he told the Gentleman hee would goe into his 
owne countrie to fee his friends, and withall prepare 
and make readie his houfe (which was let forth to farme) 
for himfelfe to inhabite, and that he would come againe 
when all things were readie and fetch his wife. The 
Gentleman was verie vnwilling to leaue the Do- 
6lors companie ; but feeing the Do6lor fo importu- 
nate, at laft yeelded, and fo lent the Doftor and his boy 
two of his beft geldings; who as foone as they were on 
horfebacke, neuer minding to returne againe, tooke 
their iourney into Deuonfliire, and there fo long as his 
foure hundred pounds lafted made merie with their 
companions, till at laft hauing fpent all, beganne to 
renue his olde trade, and after being taken in compa- 
nie with fome fufpe6led perfons was apprehended, and 
by the law (as I heard) was condemned to bee hanged 
for a murtherer. 

Thus although peraduenture hee was not guiltie 
of the murther, yet it was a iuft punifhment for his 
villanie before pra6lifed. 

The Gentleman after a quarter of a yeare was 
paft, beganne to looke for the Do6lors comming home 
againe, but in vaine; fo hee paffed a tweluemoneth, ex- 
pe6ling his fonne in lawes returne: at laft as happe 
was one of the Gentlemans acquaintance hauing 
beene at his houfe, and feeing the Do6lor there, brought 
word home to the Gentleman that hee fawe the Do- 

G 2 6lor 


Greenes Ghofl 

6lor for certaine executed at Exceter in Deuonfhire, 
for a muder. In what a melancholy humour the Gen- 
tleman was in, and what griefe and forrowe the young 
Gentlewoman tooke to heart at thefe heauie tidings, 
I refer it to the Reader, and none but thofe 
that haue tafled of thofe griefes 
doe fufificientiy 












T was only after the Works of Samuel 
Rowlands had been completed that 
it became known that a tra6l bearing 
his initials was reprinted by Mr. 
Henry Huth in " Fugitive Poetical 
Tracfts" {Second Series, 1875), and there Mr. W. 
Carew Hazlitt, who edited them, fuggefted Rowlands' 
authorfhip of "Aue Csefar." The late Mr. J. Payne 
Collier, in "Bibliographical Notes" ftill in manufcript, 
after unhefitatingly affigning its authorfhip to Row- 
lands, goes on to fay: "The writer's well-known 
initials are at the end of this Epitaph on the death 
of her most Royall Maiejlie, our late Queeite which 
follows his Aue Ccsfar, and both are full of loyalty 
on the one hand and lamentation on the other." 

The queflion having been lately referred to Mr. 
Edmund Goffe, his communication will be read with 
intereft : "I am convinced that Aue Ccsfar is a 
pamphlet of Rowlands : I could not be more fure 
of it if his name was affixed to the title page. It 
bears all the peculiarity of his tone and verfifica- 
tion ; the clear and even ftyle, the fix-line ftanza 

Prefatory Note. 

that he fo fondly afFe6led, the trite plain morality, 
all are his or nobody's. Then notice that W. F. 
and G. L. are W. Ferbrand and George Loftes, 
Rowlands' publifhers, who brought out Looke to it: 
For He Stabbe ye, in 1 604. There are various little 
fimilarities between this and other pamphlets of Row- 
lands. Note, for inftance, the ftanza beginning 
* Mofl facred Tyme,' which was the germ of the 
Terrible Battell of 1606. To my mind, the author- 
fhip of Rowlands may be afferted without a particle 
of hefitation." 

From this weight of opinion in favour of Rowlands' 
authorfhip, it has been decided to iffue " Aue Ca^far " 
as a part of the Hunterian Club edition of his Works. 
This reprint is, as near as may be, a typographical 
facfimile of the original, of which only one copy is 
known to be in exiftence, preferved in the Bodleian 
Library, Oxford. It was probably looked upon, when 
publifhed, as of too ephemeral a character to merit 
being entered in the "Stationers' Regiflers," as no 
trace of it is to be found there. 

Glasgow, March, 1S86. 

Aue Csefar. 

God faue the King. 

The ioyfull Ecchoes of loyall Englifh hartes, 

entertayning his Maiefties late 

ariuall in England. 

With an Epitaph vpon the death of her 
Maieftie our late Oueene. 

Our iveeping eyes do bath Elizaes Tombe, 

Our louing hartes yeelde lames Jier Princely roome. 


Printed for W. F. and G. L. and are to be fold 
in Popes-hed-All)- neare the Exchange. 


Aue Caefar. 

TT'Ven as the Sunne from foorth a watry clowd, 

That late welny had drownd the world with raine: 
Breakes with his briofhtnes throuQfh that fable flirowd 
Drying the moyfture from earth's face againe, 
Reuiuing that by his kind Influence, 
Which had decay'd by Waters violence, 

So Vertues Sunne, great Monarch of thefe Ifles, 
Thy fplendant rayes haue wrought the like effe6l; 
Our teares thou haft conuerted into fmiles, 
To greater loyes then ere we could expecl;: 
The wit of man, mans weake vnable wit. 
Admires the power of Heauen in working it. 

That hand which came vnto vs with a rod, 

And tooke away our peace-preferuing Queene: 

That Scepter-giuer, Crowne-difpofmg God: 

In doubt, and dread, his mercie plac'd betweene: 

And where our fmnes for vengaunce, vengaunce cri'd 

Compaffion lay'd the fword of Wrath afide. 

A ii. As 


As E/aw wifh'd for Ifaacks dying day, 
And fayd, the dayes of forrowing are at hand, 
My Father dead, I will my Brother flay: 
So did the bloody Efawes of this land, 
Whofe plots to more then wiflies did extende, 
For many wayes they did attempt her ende. 

But neuer could the Deui'll by his perfwafion, 

Effed; his purpofe to her ouerthrow : 

Not Poyfon, Dagger, Piftoll, nor inuafion. 

Could make dayes fhort, where heauen would yeeres 

He that of life doth number euery hower, (beftow. 

Will put lifes lymits in no humane power. 

Death came vnto her hauing Gods Commisfion, 
That file to heauen her progreffe muft commence : 
For to this world fhe came vpon condition, 
To leaue the fame when God did call from hence : 
Her Kingdome heere, was varying by fuccesfion. 
But that's a Kingdome endleffe in poffeffion. 



It were ingratefull to forget the peace, 

The plentie, and the great profperitie: 

The manifold great blesfings and encreafe, 

In foure and fourtie yeeres felicitie, 

Vnder the Scepter of our gratious Princeffe, 

Our peace-preferuing, world admired Empreffe. 

If Z^«?^/^ mourned for the death of Saul, 

And did the people therevnto prepare? 

Haue not we caufe to become mourners all 

For her, with whom King Satil wsls no compare; 

Although fome vertues in him might be found, 

They were fmall Starres; her Sun-fhine did abound. 

In Scarlet he did Ifraels Daughters cloth, 
And ornaments of Gold vnto them gaue : 
But fhee adorned foule and body both, 
With richeft clothing that a Realme can haue. 
There is a Garment hath a Wedding name, 
Moft happy gueft that can put on the fame. 

A iii. 



That glorious habit hath her foule put on, 

And in the Court of Heu'n is refident: 

Where all fing prayfe to him fits on the throne, 

The King of Kings, and God omnipotent 

There reft faire Soule; thy Body heere abide, 

Thy fame flie through the world both farre and wide. 

An Epitaph on the 

death of her moft Royall 

Maiejlic, o?ir late Qiieene. 

S Acred Celejliall Deities Diuine, 
MortalVs that do proceed of Jinmane line. 
All yo7L that know what griefes and forroives bee, 
Come and teare-ivajli an Empreffe Toinbe zuith mee. 
Melpomene tJioji tragike dolefiill Mufe, 
Put on fonic blackc, which thoit did ft neiier I'fe, 
And in the faddejl Sable can be had; 
Let all thy Sijiers in the like be clad: 
TJieiv liquid Pearles in plentie %oe miijl boi'voiv, 
Bccaufe it is no common vfiall forroiv. 



The Phenix of the World to Heaueu is floivne, 
And of Jier AfJies there remeynetJi none: 
The PelHcan that did Jier yoitng-ones good, 
Hath yeelded all her vitall flreanies of blood. 
Cynthia that gaue the World a glorions fJiine, 
Shall neuer more be feene with mortall eyen: 
The fayrefi Rofe, the fivectefl Princely Floiuer, 
Lyes ivitJired 7iozu by Death's coold nipping power. 
You fpirits of the highefl Element^ 
Yon Jieanenly fparkes ofivit, with one confent 
Conioyne, and front the treafurie of Artes, 
Giue honour to the Oueene of good-dcfartes : 
The reiierent Lady, Nurfe of all our Land, 
That ftvafd a Sword like ludeth's, in her hand. 
The Debora that iudged Ifraell: 
Whofe blefsed actions God did profper luell: 
She that did neuer pnrpofe lurong to any. 
Though iniiiries to her, were done by many. 
She that no longer rule on earth did crane. 
Then befl, and mofl defired, fite might haue. 
She that with Mercyes winges adorn' d her Throne, 
And yet zoith luftice ballance fate thereon. 
Report Jier Prayfe to all haue eares to heare it, 

A iiij. 



Sound out her Fa?ne as farre as Fame can bcare it. 

Let from the Earth, her fame to Heauettfoiinde, 

Let from the Heauen, Jier fame to Earth rebounde: 

Let through the Ocean ivaiies pronounce the fame, 

And whirling zuindes be agent es of Jicr Fame: 

Let Heauen, Aire, the Ocean, and the EartJi, 

With Ecchoes found blefsed Elizabeth. 

Yea let the very Stones zvhere fJice Jhall lie, 

Tell ages folloiving, this of ours gone by: 

Within 071 r marble armes we do end of- 

The virgin Oueene, the WJiite and Red-croivn'd Rofe, 

TJmt ruVd this Real me fo happy, fourtie foivre. 

As neuer Prince did raigne the like before. 

From Men, with Sain6les fliee lines in high cfleeme. 

Seated in bliffe, which befl doth her e§leeme. 

S. R. 



OTay Sorrowes there about Elizaes Tombe, 

From whence, with hopefull hartes w^e now retire: 
Let Griefe yeeld place, and giue our loyes fome rome 
To entertaine the King of our defire, 
I AMES firft of England, and of Scotland fixt, 
He hath our mourninges with all comforts mixt. 

Our honorable true Nobilitie, 

Moft high renowmed Worthies of the Land, 

Haue fhew'd their loyall true fidelitie, 

Conioyn'd by God, afwell in hart as hand : 

Thefe are carefull proppes and pillers of our Nation. 

Haue giuen Ccrfar right, by Proclamation. 

And who is he that doth not giue confent. 
With hart-pronounced found, Godfaue the King: 
Vnleffe it be fome Villian malecontent, 
That mifchiefe to his Country feekes to bring : 
He that repineth at the Lordes Annoynted, 
Like to a Traytor let him be disioynted. 

B. Neuer 


Neuer did King fet foote on EngliJJi ground, 
With more applaw'd then our renowmed lames: 
For as great ioyes within our hartes abound, 
As euer were contay'd in all his Realmes : 
Our loues to him the eyes of heau'n doth fee, 
Sound, as the fubie6les fhould to Soueraigne bee. 

Not great King Henrie, fecond of that name, 
When with his royall Nauie he did fayle. 
The rude and barb'rous Iri/limcn to tame, 
Where moft vidlorioufly he did preuayle, 
Subduing them vnder his Scepters length, 
By honourable valour, Martiall ftrength. 

Nor his fonne Richard, Lyou-hart^d King, 

That deedes of Armes in other landes purfew'd 

Could caufe more ioy from peoples hartes to fpring. 

When they return'd from Countries they fubdew'd : 

In entertayning them to Englands fliore. 

Where tonges did fliew what harts the fubieCrts bore. 



Nor yet fift Henry s comming out of Frauiice, 
From thofe high deedes that there he vndertooke : 
Nor's Father, whom defartes did fo aduaunce, 
The peoples deare beloued Bjille^ibrooke, 
Could haue more loue ready prepard to meete them, 
Or more affedlion, presfmg foorth to greete them. 

Their welcomes were from warres they had in hand, 
Which loffe of blood, and valour caufd to ceafe : 
Thy welcomes are from out a quiet Land, 
Inlarging vs a wondrous league of peace. 
O welcome Prince of Peace and quietneffe : 
The God of Peace thee and thine Iffue bleffe. 

Moft facred Tyme, that with the World began, 
And art ordayn'd Gods fpeciall Inflrument, 
To deale in all affayres concerning Man, 
Numb'ring each minute that on earth is fpent : 
Thou that mak'ft expedition with the winde, 
To fly, and run, with Eagle, and with Hinde. 

B ii. 



Lay downe thy fickle thou haft in thy hand, 
Becaufe thou muft performe a nimble place : 
Turne quicke about thine Hower-glaffe of fand, 
Run for thy life to entertaine his Grace : 
Make fpeed good Time in this, to do vs pleafure, 
For all the Realme doth waite vpon thy leafure. 

Linger not by the way, to harken newes. 
But let thy charge be rightly vnderftood : 
Flying reportes, let fooles and Ideots vfe. 
Tale-carriers thou doefl know were neuer good : 
If any fuch thou chaunce to ouer-take, 
A bafe account of them thou art to make. 

I know thou know'ft how to falute our Prince. 

That haft bin guide of Kinges into their Thrones 

That office thou haft well performd long fmce, 

Vnto all Gods eledled holy-ones : 

The chifeft thing we haue in expe6lation, 

Ls, that thou hie him to his Coronation. 



Our Nobles all, to their immortall fame, 
(Deferuing Peeres, of Honours beft defartes) 
Are duetifull prepared for the fame, 
With firme confent of all true Englifh hartes, 
Who from their foules vnfaignedly do pray. 
That euen this prefent, were crownation day. 

The Cittie with the loyall Magiftrate, 

The Maior, the Shriefes, the Aldermen, the reft, 

Haue faythfull welcomes to him confecrate. 

And all endeuour : loue may be expre'ft. 

Yet can no triumph nor externall fhow, 

Defcribe aright the inward loue they owe. 

For often loue abounding in the minde. 

From center of the hart, which doth containe it. 

Cannot fo abfolute a paffage finde. 

As in an outward fulneffe may explane it: 

Loues treafurie hath very feldome bin 

As foone layde out, as it is gath'red in. 

B iii. Defcend 


Defcend you Mufes from Parnafsus hill ; 

Bring Art in librall handes, and now beftow-it: 

Let euery one prefent a flowing Quill, 

In honour of our famous Kingly Poet: 

And as the chearefull Larke doth mounting fmg, 

So eleuate the honour of the King. 

lone adde a length of yeeres vnto his dayes, 

That long in peace, by vs he be enioy'd. 

Apollo tune thy Muficke to his prayfe, 

To better vfe it cannot be imployd. 

Sound Triton through the Seas vafl kingdame, found 

That Englands King is comming to be Croun'd. 

Vcr, flrow the Ground with thy delightfull greene, 
For in thy feafon doth our Monarch come: 
Be all the Fieldes in Sommers liuerie feene: 
Attire the Trees, and let the Plants haue fome : 
Be bountifull and forward gentle Spring, 
Thou canft not welcome a more worthy King. 




Aboue all Trees, be kindeft to the Rofe, 
For tis a Flower of a princely price: 
There is a White and Red togither growes, 
I thinke the Plant came (firfl) from Paradice: 
Let it be watred with fome heau'nly fliower, 
For (on my life) it beares a bleffed flower. 

Bleft chiefly in the graft Earle Richmond made, 
For till his time, thofe Rofes were at ftrife, 
Hee in a happie hower all quarrels ftay'd, 
Takeing fourth Edwards daughter to his wife: 
So did the Houfes both in one vnite, 
Mixing the kingly Red, with princely White. 

A glorious Arbour from this roote hath fprong, 
Of fweeteft Rofes, crown'd with Diadames : 
From Prince to Prince, the branch hath run along, 
And now the noble Flower is cald King lames. 
Lord we intreat thee for our Countries good, 
Graunt that his ftocke may neuer want a bud. 

B iiii. Let 



Let Angels pitch their Tentes about his Throne/ 
Be thou his ftrength, his truft, his God, his guide: 
Graunt that his dayes may be Hke Salomon, 
A mirrour vnto all the world befide, 
That thofc which heare his fame farre of to ring 
Like Sabaes Oueene, may all admire our King. 



Looke to it : 

He Stabbe ye, 

Imprinted at London by E. Allde 
for W. Ferbt'and, and George Loftcs, 
and are to be foldc in Popes- 
head Allie. 1604. 

T//ere is a Humour vf'd of late, 
By eue'ry Rafcall fwagg'ring mate, 
To glue the Stabbe: He Stabbe (fayes hee) 
Him that dares take the wall of me. 
If you to pledge a health denie, 
Out comes his Poniard; there you lie. 
If his Tabacco you difpraife, 
He fweares, a Stabbe shal end your daies. 
If you demaund the Debt he owes, 
Into your guts his Dagger goes. 
Death feeing this, doth take his Dart, 
and he performes the Stabbing part. 
he fpareth none, be who it will : 
his lifence is the World to kill. 

A 2. 


Deaths great and 

gxHcrall Challenge 

Do defie the World and all iJicrcin, 

My challenge at the Scepter doth begin : 

Do'ivne to the Plough Swainc, come who dare in tlaa. 

Set foot e to mine, and looke me in the face. 
MyJIeJIi and fat, doth make no InirlieJJioiv, 
A razv-hone fellow, all the World doth hioiv. 
To dcale atfundry Weapons, J refi/fe. 
As Fencas {when they play their prizes) vfc: 
Of Swojd and Dagger I haue little skill: 
Rapier I ncncr wore, nor neuer 7vill. 
My fight is very bad to haue about. 
For He affure you both mine Eyes be out. 
But at the Irifli Dart y onely deale: 
Whofc Hart I hit, J nere kneio Surgeon heale. 
My Horfc is pale, wellpac'd; I neucr shoo-him, 
Saindl Georges Gelding was a lade vnto-him, 
I would ride often, when I go onfoote, 
But there's no Shoo-maker can fit me' a Boote. 

Deaths Prologue to 

his Tragicall Stabbc. 

n^O no degree crfacnitie, I do intcnde offence; 

A I tJiofe I threaten heere tojlah, ^ fend the zvr etches hence 
Arefuch^ as tremble ic'hen they heare, whatfatall Stab I giue, 
For though I kill both good and bad, all creatures that do Hue., 
The good are ncucr terrified with any power I hauc: 
I open the thejn Doore of life, the chief eft thifig they crane. 
But to the luicked graceleffe fort, inofi feajfull I appeare, 
Becaife Ifetide them to a place, doth pafje all torments heere. 
To the the 7iame of Death feems Death, Oh lis a fearful found 
For of the hope of life to come, they want affured ground, 
From this bad World vnto a worfc, I fend them forth to dwell 
I am the Taylor, leading them vnto the vault of Hell. 
Good newes vnto the good J^ bring: but to the wicked, euill: 
Becaufe I fend the one to God, the other to the DeuilL 
Such as fear c God, they fear e not me, but bid me do my worfi 
\f any finde hijufelfe agreeiid, ileflabbc that fellow firfl. 


Tyrant Kinges. 


Ou high Imperious crownc-contcnding Kings, 
Who for Earth's gloiy (not Religions good) 
Turne humane bodies into bloudy fprings, 
And die the ground with flaught'rcd chriftians blood 
That for the gayning of an earthly Crowne, 
Will toffe a fpatious Kingdome vpfidc downe. 

You that deuorce the hufbands from their wiues, 
By fatall warre, the endleffc foe to peace : 
you that denye poore new-borne Babes their liues, 
and will not graunt fweet life an hov/ers leafe:^ 
That care not how, or by what meanes you raigne. 
So you the golden Crowne and Scepter gaine. 

He Stabbe yee. 


Wicked Magiftrates. 

"jVr Obles and Judges, mightie men on Earth, 
That careleffe caft the fword of luftice by : 
And let your pleafures furfeit in their myrth, 
Not lending poore mens Plaints, eare, hand, nor eye ; 
Suff'ring the luft vuiuftly be oppreft, 
When the oppreffor Hues at eafe and reft. 

Forgetting God, whom you fhould reprefent, 
In all the aftions of your publique place: 
Yeelding the world your hartes, with full confent, 
To gather Mainvion, hoording wealth apace. 
You that nere thinke your felues muft once appeere 
To giue account how you haue Judged heere: 

lie Stabbe yce. 


Curious Diuines. 

T^/ww^j, that are together by the cares, 

Puft vp, high-minded, feedes-men of diffention, 
Striuing vntill CJiriJles feame-leffe garments teares, 
Making the Scriptures follow your inuention, 
Negle6ling that, whereon the foule fliould feede, 
Imployde in that, whereof foules hauc no neede. 

Curious in thinges you neede not ftir about, 
Such as concerne not matter of faluation : 
Giuing offence to them that are without: 
Vpon whofe weaknes you fhould haue compasfion, 
Caufmg the good to grieue, the bad reioyce ; 
Yet you with MartJia, make the worfer choyce. 

He Stabbe yee. 



Couetous Lawyers. 

T Azi'ja's that wreft the Law to your affection, 
■^To fauour, or disfauour, as you pleafe : 
And keepe your Clyants purfes in fubieclion, 
Till fome doe get Pei7'ce penny leffc difeafe: 
Not caring how their caufe do ftand or fall. 
So you your felues get golde to rife withall. 

That whylc you deale with Angels, feruc the Deuill, 
Becaufe you banifh Confcience out of towne, 
Couetoufneffe, you knowe's a damned euill ; 
And yet you wrap it with you in your Gowne. 
You that with if's with and 's, demurrs, delayes, 
Bring Caufes in confumptions and decayes. 

lie Stabbe yec. 



|g Vp-ftart Courtier. ^^ 

^ ^S**/^ 13(^^S ^^^Vl^r^ W^fVn f??! ^"'^'^'^^tFv^ S^^^ 

r^Ourticr, whofe hart with pride, fo mighty growes, 

thou wilt not to thy Father mooue thy Hat, 
becaufe he weares a paire of ruffet Hofe, 
Thy Vekiet Breeches looke awry at that : 
Nay, ere he fliaU difgrace thee, thou wilt rather 
Sweare by the Lord, that he is not thy Father. 

You that deny the ftocke from whence you came, 
thrufting your felfe into fome Gentle kin, 
you that will giue your felfe an other name. 
Which mufl not from an old Thatcht-houfe begin, 
you that will haue an Armes fliall grace you too, 
Though your poore Father cobled many a Shoo. 

He Stabbe yee. 

B 2 


VVealthye Cittizens. 

YOu Cittizens that arc of Diiics wealth, 
His coftly cloathing, and his dainty fare, 
Regarding nothing but felfe-eafe and health : 
How euer Lazarus lyes poore and bare : 
your Dogges are not fo kinde to licke their fores, 
But rather ferue to bite them from your dores. 

You that do make j'our Tables Poulters ftalles, 
Great prouocation to the fmfull flefli : 
And though the famifli'd, hunger-ftarued calles 
For lefus fake, with Crummes our wantes refrefli : 
Your Difhes haue the food for which they cry: 
You play with that, for which they pine and die. 

He Stabbe yee. 



Greedy Vfurer. 

THou Fur-gown'd flauc, exceeding rich and olde, 
Ready to be deuowred of the Graue : 
Thou that wilt fell a foule, to purchafe Gold, 
And gold, ftill gold, nothing but golde doft craue : 
Thou moft extreame hard-harted cruell wretch, 
Whome Hell gapes for; the Deuill comes to fetch. 

Thou that wilt not forbeare an howers time, 

But wilt a forfayture feueerely take : 

Thou that by crueltie to wealth dofl clyme, 

And threatneft Dice of poore mens bones to make, 

Hauing that ruftie gold vpon thy hand. 

For which, there's thoufandes perifli in the land. 

He ftabbe yee. 




Curfed Swearers. 

THou that dofl take Gods holy name in vaine, 
Which is of wondrous feare and reuerence, 
Thou that reprou'd, v/ilt vtter Oathcs againe, 
To grieue him, that admonifh'd thy offence. 
Thou that wilt fay, He that's agreeu'd with fwearing, 
May ftop his eares or get him out of hearing. 

Thou that wilt fwcare a truth, not to be fo, 

And fweare that which is falfe, to be mofl trew, 

Thou that wilt vow moft abfolutc to know, 

That which thy confcience knowcs thou neuer knew. 

Thou that wilt fweare, thou car'cft not what thou 

becaufe the deuil and thy tongue are neareft. (fweareft 

He ftabbe yee. 



Phifitions of the 

Quackfalucrs crew. 

T^06lor, or rather Dunce, that purge with Pill, 

Vntill that filuer haue a cleane Purgation : 
You Artleffe Buffard, that abufe the skill, 
Of Learned men, deferuing reputation. 
You that had neuer Do6lorfliip in Schooles, 
But got your grace from women or from Fooles. 

You bafe Quackfaluer in a Common wealth, 

That pra6lize Phificke out of olde Aviues tales, 

you that can make them ficke which haue their health 

And learne by Almanackes, to pare your Nayles. 

You that can tell what figne is beft affe6led 

To picke ones Teeth, or haue his Beard corrected. 

lie Stabbe yee. 




GAllant that takes the Altitudes on hie, 
and hke a Fawk'ners Hawke do hood your wife, 
Giuing thofe golden Angels leaue to flye, 
your Father kept clofe prifoners all his life: 
you that are Sonne to him that held the Plow, 
Transform'd by Gold, into a Gentle now. 

You that are Fafliions fpie, and Humors Ape, 
A filken Affe, a very Veluet Clowne : 
A perfe<5l Gull, that lets no Fafliions fcape, 
To fwagger it in LondoUy vp and downe. 
you that within a fuite of Cyuit dwell, 
And Garlike was your Fathers onely fmell. 

He Stabbe yec. 





V/'Ou Captine moufe-trap, growne a defperat ftabber 

You that will put your Poniard in mens guts : 
You that lall Voyage, were no more but fvvabber, 
Yet you cracke Blades as men cracke Hafel-nuts, 
You that try all your manhood with a Puncke, 
And fight moffc brauely when you are moft drunke: 

You that protefl the Feather in your Hat, 
came from a Counteffe Fanne by way of fauour: 
Your Rapier, why the great Turke gaue you that 
For mightie monft'rous MarJJial-like behauiour. 
You that weare Scarfs and Gart' rings for your hofe, 
Made all of Ancients, taken from your foes. 

He Stab yee. 



DilTembling Souldier 


YOu Sirha, that vfurpe a Souldicrs name, 
Vaunting your felfe a Thunder-bolt of Warres, 
Vowing that euery ioynt }'ou hauc is lame, 
By piercing Bullets, bloudy woundes, and fcarres : 
You that fome hundred men at once withftood, 
And fought mofh brauely to the knees in blood. 

You that haue flaine more men by breake of day, 
Then could haue graues digg'd for them in a weeke. 
You that haue made your foes to run away, 
Starke naked, when their breeches were to feeke: 
You that haue compaffd all the earth's globe round, 
Yet neuer trod a ftep from EugUfli ground. 

lie Stab yee. 



Vnkinde Parents. 

PArentes, which fo \-nnaturall are growne, 
That for your Children you will not prouide 
Becomming fo obdurate to your owne, 
With hardned heartes you can them not abide, 
But to a ftranger will extend more good, 
then to the ofspring of your blood. 

You that in rage and fur}', moft vnkinde, 
Will vtter Curfes where you ought to bleffe : 
For which God often yeeldeth to your minde, 
and fayes Amen, to wiflied ill fucceffe. 
You that from all humanitie haue ceaft, 
Man-like in fliape, in manners but a beaft. 

He Stabbe yee. 





CHildren that moft vndutifull doc Hue, 
Forgetting what the Law of God commaundes ; 
You that no reuerence to your parents glue, 
But follow that which with your fancic flands, 
That onely like the Prodigall, will fpend, 
But come not home (as he did) to amend. 

You that propound your felues vnthriftle wayes, 
And will not vnto found aduife confent : 
you that doe runne like Follies witles flrayes, 
Vntill fome prifon teach you to repent : 
you that liue as you pleafe, do what you lift, 
and admonition vtterly refift. 

He Stabbe yce. 



YOu filthy flaues, whom I do often fee, 
fleeping In Tauerns on the benches drunke ; 
That will haue full carowfes come to thee, 
Till with the liquors lading thou art funke. 
Then fill vs Boy one quart of Charnico, 
To drinke a health to Dicke before we goe. 

You that will drinke Reynaldo vnto death : 
The Dane, that would carowfe out of his Boote, 
and quaffe an hundred Flemings out of breath, 
Laying as many French-men vnder foote : 
you that no other courfe obferue and keepe, 
But either drinking, drunke, or els a fleepe. 

He Stabbe you, 
C 3 Permrers 

"\ Zlllaiuc, that runn'ft the ready way to Hell, 

and ncuer art at home, till thou com'ft there, 
Bafe flaue, that for bafe Bribes thy foule Avilt fell, 
And any thing wilt vndertake to fwcare. 
Thou careft not for God, nor mans law fearcs, 
Vntill the Pillorie bite off both thine cares. 

Thou that doft make thy tongue a Serpents fting, 
To wound and hurt the Innocent withall : 
Thou that confufion to thy fclfe doft bring, 
And wilful! wilt into perdition fall; 
Thou that art knowne amongfh the befi: and moft, 
and Officer of Hell, Knight of the Poft. 

He Stabbe yon. 


God-leffe Athifts 

npHou damned AtJiiJl, thou incarnate Deuill, 

That doeft deny his power which did create thee: 
a Villaine apt for euery kinde of euill, 
And all the eyes in heauen and earth do hate tliee. 
That mak'ft account when thou fiialt breathleffe he, 
Thy foule and bodie hke a beaft do die. 

That Vharoa hke dar'ft aske what fellow's God? 
Efteeming facred Scriptures, to be vaine : 
And that the dead in earth fhall make abode, 
and neuer rife from out their graues againe : 
That fay'ft; eate, drinke, be merrie, take delight: 
Swagger out day, and Reuell all the night. 

He Stabbc thee. 



Miferable Marchant 

A/T Archant, that doefl endeuour all thy daics, 

To get commodities for priuate gaine : 
Caring no whit by what fynifter wayes, 
Nor by what hazard, trauell, toyle, or paine: 
Neuer rcfpefling other mens hard croffes, 
So thou mayfl fell decrepen- worths by their loffes. 

Thou that doefl couet all in thine ownc hand, 

and for another let him fmcke or fwim : 

Thou that haft bleffmges both by Sea and Land, 

Giuen by God, yet neuer thankeft him : 

thou that with carefuU nights doeft breake thy fleepe ; 

to gather wealth, which long thou canft not keepe. 

He Stabbe thee. 



Deceitful! Artificers. 

A Rtificers, and Crafts-men of all trades, 
That deale by craft in felling and in bying: 
You that with falfhood often times perfwades 
Men to giue credite to vntrueth and lying : 
That care not, fo your ware content the eye, 
Though your owne Father be deceiu'd thereby. 

You that protefl to vfe a man moft kind. 

And ferue him that, fhall well be worth his mony, 

When he that tryes you, fhall be fure to finde 

The deedes proue Gall, & words containe the Hony. 

You that are out-fide goodly proteftations. 

But all the in-fide falfe difsimulations. 

He Stabbe yee. 

D. Wretched 




■\7'0u Husband-men that heape & hord vp Corne, 

And neuer laugh, but when it waxeth deere : 
You whom the poore do wifh had nere bin borne, 
Becaufe you famifh and vndo them heere. 
You that an Alnianacke ill 11 beare about, 
To fearch and finde the rainy weather out. 

You that at plentie euermore repine. 
And hang your felues for griefe, to fee the fame. 
You that will weepe when as the Sunne doth fhine, 
And figh to heare but of faire-weathers name. 
You that for nothing but deare yeeres do pray, 
To Gentleman your Sonnes, another day. 

lie Stabbe yee. 



Svvaggring Ruffian. 


Ou Swagg'rer, with your Hat without a band, 
Your head befhagg'd with nittie lowfie lockes. 
You that vpon Tabacco vertue ftand, 
Your only foueraigne Medcine for the Pockes 
You that weare Bootes, and Ginglers at your heeles. 
Yet whe you ride, your coatch hath but two wheeles. 


You that will meete one by the high-way fide, 
And fweare Gods woundes, Deliuer me thy purfe. 
You that for Bawdy houfes do prouide, 
Though many honefl true men fpeed the worfe. 
You that will coufen, cheat, robbe, kill, and fteale. 
Till for your cloathes, Hangman and Broker deale. 

He Stabbe yee. 

D 2. Proude 


Proud Gentlewomen 

■\7'0u Gentle-puppets of the proudeft fize, 

That are hke Horfes, troubled with the Fafhions, 
Not caring how you do your felues difguife, 
In finfull fliameles, Hels abhominations. 
You whom the Deuill (Prides father) doth perfwade 
To paint your face, & mende the worke God made. 

You with the Hood, the Falling-band, and Ruffe, 
The Moncky-waft, the breeching like a Beare : 
The Perriwig, the Maske, the Fanne, the Muffe, 
The Bodkin, and the Buffard in your heare : 
You Veluet-cambricke-filken-feather'd toy, 
That with your pride, do all the world annoy. 

He Stabbe yee. 



Odious Quarreler. 

A/'Ou Sir, that are fo quarrelous by nature, 
JL That you fcorne all men, be they what they will ; 
Tearming each one a cowardly bafe creature, 
That will not fweare and curfe, ftab, fight, and kill. 
You that will challenge any to the feelde, 
Vowing while you can ftand, neuer to yeelde. 

You that without any offence at all, 

Will fhoulder him you meete vpon the way. 

You that (by wounds and blood) will haue the wall, 

Eu'en in defpight of him that dare fay nay. 

You that inhumane, brutifh, moft vncyuill, 

Profeffe your felfe a Champion for the Deuill. 

He Stabbe you. 

D 3. Dijloyall 


Disloyall Traytor. 

FAlfe harted Traytor, bred of hidas kinde, 
Sent from the Furies, about Helles affayres: 
That vnto mifchiefe wholy art incHn'd, 
And neither for thy foule nor body cares: 
Thou that with Sinon wifheft Troy might bume, 
To feme and fit the Deuill, thy Maifters turne. 

Thou that doeft plot and pra6life gainft the ftate, 
And Gods Annoynted dar'ft with treafon touch. 
Thou that can' ft to thy Soueraigne be ingrate. 
Whom thou art dearely bound to honour much : 
He fyle no handes vpon thee ; I abhorre thee, 
But He giue order to the Hangman for-thee. 



Filthy Pander. 

YOu fcuruie fellow, in the Brokers fuite, 
A Sattin Doublet, fac'd with Greace and Ale, 
That of the art of Bawdry can'ft difpute, 
To picke a lyuing from a damn'd Whores tayle. 
Thou that within thy Table haft fet downe, 
The names of all the Squirils in the towne. 

Thou that can'ft holde a Fanne, and keepe a Dore, 
And offer any Conftable the ftabbe : 
Thou that about the ftreetes can'ft walke a Whore, 
And bring her vnto him that wantes a Drabbe. 
Thou that art out-fide horned like an Oxe, 
Thy in-fide all Tabacco, and the Poxe. 

He Stabbe thee. 





"D Ent-rayfmg rafcals, you that care not how 

You do exa6l vpon the needy wretch, 
That Hue euen on the poore mans fweating brow, 
And from his painefull toyle, your ryches fetch : 
Early and late, his labours all are fpent, 
To pay a churlifh dogged Naball rent. 

You whom the Prophet curfeth with a woe, 
Houfe-mongers, that on earth would euer dwell: 
Grinding the poore, as their diftreffes flioe : 
And at the price of old Shooes do them fell. 
You that of Earth enough will neuer haue, 
Till foule in Hell, and body in the graue. 

He Stabbe yee. 




THou filthy fellow of a beaflly life, 
Poluted both in body, and in minde : 
That breakeft wedlocke with thy la^^^ull wife, 
And think'fl all's well, if thou the world canft blinde. 
Tut, Death ha's worke enough with other men, 
Heele come when th'art an old man; God knowes 


Tell thee of Judgement, or of Gods difpleafure. 
Why, thou wilt anfwere, He hath grace in ftore: 
And for Repentance, thou wilt finde fome leafure. 
When Age will let thee follow Whores no more. 
Thou that wilt feme the Deuill with the beft, 
And tume God to his leanings, and the reft. 

He Stabbe thee. 





Tj^Ine, neate, and curious miftris Butter flie, 

The Idle-toy to pleafe an Idiots eye 
You that wifh all Good-hufwiues hang'd for why, 
Your dayes work's done each morning whe you rife 
Put on your Gowne, your Ruffe, your Masskc, your 
Then dine & fup, & go to bed againe. (Chaine 

You that will call your Husband Gull & Clowne, 

If he refufe to let you haue your will : 

You that will poute and lowere, and fret and frowne 

Vnleffe his purfe be lauifh open ftill. 

You that will haue it, get it how he can, 

Or he fhall weare a Vulcans brow, poore man. 

He Stabbe thee. 


Prodigall Gallant. 

"VT'Ou Sir that haue your purfe cram'd full of crownes 

The Huely pi6lure of the Prodigall : (woundes 

That haue your mouth furnifh'd with blood and 
And come in Whores, Wine, Fidlers : you'le pay all. 
You that are like the Divarfc in Athens, right, 
Who in fine dayes, fpent's Patrimony quite. 

You that are churched once in feuen yeere, 
But in a Tauerne you could Hue and die: 
You that haue your loy in Belly-cheere, 
In Dice, in Dauncing, and in Venerie. 
You that for pennance of your paffed finne, 
In Woodjireete, or the Poultry, meane to Inne. 


He Stabbe thee. 





V/^Ou goodman Glutton, bellyed like a Butt, 

Fac'd like the North-windes-pi6lure in a Map : 
Thou with the neuer fatisfied gutt, 
VVhofe life is eate, and drinke, and take a nap. 
Thou that if Wolner were aliue againe, 
Would'ft eate more at a meale, then he in twaine. 

Thou moft vnhealthy lothfome rauenous beafl, 
That tak'ft delight in nothing but exceffe : 
And haft a nofe to fmell out any Feaft : 
A brazen face to ceaze on euery meffe, 
That vndertakeft nothing with good-will, 
Vnleffe it be thy Pudding-houfe to fill. 

He Stabbe thee. 



Sooth-fayer, or 

Figure flinger. 


\7'0u Cunning man, or rather co'fning Knaue, 
That will tell good-man Ninney of his Mare : 
Cyjley, how many Husbandes fhe fhall haue, 
Tom Carter, when the weather will be faire : 
My neighbour Fowling, who hath found his Purfe, 
And lone his wife, who did her Chickens curfe. 

Whether a man fhall haue a happy life, 
Whether a Louer fliall his Loue enioy: 
Who fhall die firfl, the husband or the wife? 
Whether the childe vnborne, be girle or boy? 
You that can fetch home Seruantes runne away, 
And finde out any Cattle gone afbray. 

He Stabbe yee. 



My fine Dauncer. 

TIT Eigh, Av'on turne more, let's fee this GalHard out, 

I promife you the fellow doth it well : 
How nimbly at his trade he turnes about, 
At hopping vp and downe he doth excell : 
Well, let him daunce it out, and when tis done, 
A daunce twixt him and Death muft be besrun. 

You nimble skipiacke, turning on the toe, 
As though you had Gun-pouder in your tayle ; 
You that do leape about and caper foe, 
Efteeming our old Country Daunces ftale. 
You that do Hue by fliaking of the heele. 
By hopping, and by turning like a wheele. 

He Stabbe yee. 



lefFery Make-shift. 

O Hifter, that Hues without a lawfull calling, 

And onely bafeneffe with your humor fittes, 
That cares not in what myfchefe you are falling, 
But make an occupation of your wittes : 
You that haue alwayes cheating Dice in ftore, 
With, Come fiveete Fiue, I holde yee fixe to foure. 

You that can cunningly in Cookes fhops brawle, 
And fhew your felfe in Chollers mighty heate : 
while your Confort fteales Vi6luals from the ftall, 
To finde your poore and needy ftomacke meate. 
You that for all your diet with your Hoaft, 
Do fet your hand in Chalke vnto his Poafl. 

He Stabbe you. 




and ill Husbandes. 

YOu careleffe wretches of the waftfuU vaine, 
That for your Families will not prouide: 
But Hue in Idleneffe, and take no paine, 
Spending your owne, and other mens befide : 
That wife and children vtterly negle6l, 
And to your feruantes neuer haue refpe6t. 

You that do wifh them hang'd, will purchafe landes, 
Tearming him that fpares Mony, worfe then madde: 
You that commit your Stocke to Vitlers handes, 
With Tufh, a merry Hart outliues a fadde. 
You that are a good fellow to your friende, 
Druncke from the weekes beginning to the ende. 

He Stabbe yee. 



{Haiie at you all tojlabbe and kill. 
There flies my Dart, light wJiere it will. 

HEe that will take no warning, let him chufe, 
Few wordes my maifters, I intende to vfe : 
My deede and word, togither alwayes goe, 
I loue plaine dealing, you fhall finde it fo. 
The Stabbe I promife, and the Stabbe He pay. 
Your Hartes fhall haue it, on their dying day. 
But thinke that day is very long to come. 
And you fhall Hue more yeeres then other fome : 
Thinke though your friendes and kindred dayly die. 
You fhall efcape, your turne is nothing nie : 
Put my remembrance farre out of your minde. 
For wicked men no hope in DcatJi can finde : 
They thinke vpon me with a cruell feare. 
They quake, and tremble, when my name they heare. 
I bring but heauie newes, their foules to greeue. 
Yet till I come, they will it not beleeue. 



Hee that hath health and eafe, with gould ftor'd ftill, 
And nere in's life did good, nor neuer will, 
Tell him of Death, of ludgement, and the Grmte, 
And what reward in Hell, the wicked haue; 
That very fhortly he fhall not be heere, (cheere, 

That with his flcfh the Wormes fhall make good- 
That other men his hoarded goodes fhall fhare, 
That hence he muft depart, poore, naked, bare- 
That earth's delightes fhall be of no efteeme, 
That all the world cannot a Soule redeeme : 
That Dines begg's for drops, where torments dwell, 
That there's no comfort to be had in Hcl. 
That they which haue done good, to Hemin fhall go 
That they which haue done ill, to endles wo. 
His blockifli Sences, worldes conceites fo fmother, 
It enters one eare, and goes out at tother. 
Therefore let him that will hold on his courfe, 
Goe on in euill, and be worfe and worfe : 
Tis nothing vnto mee, if heele not mende, 
He Stabbe him for the Deuill, there's an ende, 
Drinke and be merry as good fellowes do, 



And if you pleafe you may be drunken to. 

Caroufe your drunkardes health's from day to day, 

Till I, and Sickneffe, take your health away. 

Sweare and blafpheme Gods facred holy name, 

And take delight in doing of the fame. 

Thunder out Oathes, fuch as in Hell are bred, 

Vntill I teare thy tongue out of thy head. 

Beare thy felfe proude as loftie as thou can, 

Difpife the poore, difdaine an humble man, 

Boaft of thy ftore of wealth, thy worldly wit. 

He turne thy flefli and bones to rot for it. 

Mallice thy neighbour, caufe thou fee'ft him thriue, 

And for to get away his lyuing, ftriue. 

Vndoe him if thou can'fl, and for that fmne. 

He leaue thee but a Clout to wrap thee in. 

Rayfe Rentes apace, builde Houfes, purchafe Landes, 

Be alwayes raking with Opprefsins handes. 

Thinke all is lawfull purchafe, thou can'ft catch 

from thy diftreffed friendles needy wretch. 

Buye thy poore neighbours Houfe ouer his head, 

Turne him and's children out to begge their bread. 




Deale cruelly with thofe are in thy debt, 
And let them at thy handes no fauour get. 
Send them to Prifon; there in all diftreffe, 
To tafte the mercie of the mercileffe. 
He fliackle thee, for ftirring handes or feete 
Within a Coffin and a Winding-flieete. 
Say to thy felfe, as once the Churle did fay, 
(Whofe foule the Deuill fetch'd that night away) 
For many yeeres, much goodes thou haft in ftore, 
Eate, drinkc, be merry; take delight therefore: 
Exclude all Pittie, Confcience, and Remorce. 
Get Goodes it skils not how, by fraude or force. 
He come vpon thee, when thou thinkeft leaft. 
And thou flialt die, as thou did'ft hue, a Beaft. 
Diffemble cunning, do it with a grace: 
Giue all kind wordes before thy neighbours face. 
Proteft thy kindneffe he fliall neuer lacke: 
Yet hang him (if thou can'ft) behind his backe. 
Flatter, and fawne : with falfliood pray vpon him : 
Beftow the courtecie of ludas on-him : 
Of all thy villany I keepe a fcore, 



Ere long thou fhalt deceiue the world no more. 

Be a Time-feruer; liue as others doo: 

With fome prophane, with fome religious too : 

Yet howfoeuer thou haft done, or fpoke, 

Let thy Religion ferue but as a cloke. (flowes, 

Thinke th'art a man from whom much wifedome 

If thou can'ft blinde the eyes of men with fhowes. 

To get thy felfe Gods curfe, with worldlings prayfe, 

Why, t'is a fmne moft common now adayes, 

Looke to it Wretch, as fure as Death ; fo fure, 

An euerlafting Hell, thou fhalt endure. 

Striue and contende, reuenge the leaft offence : 

Threaten by Law: vrge to extreame expence. 

Spende many a pound, in quarrell of a penny, 

And be it right or wrong, yeeld not to any. 

Let no man haue the ending of thy caufe, 

But onely Lawyers; try it by the Lawes. 

He Stabbe thee foole; there's no Atturnyes fee 

Can finde out Law to be reueng'd on mee. 

Builde fumtuous Houfes, tytle them thine OAvne: 

Make wrong pay-maifter for the wood and ftone. 




Let thy Wines pride, be all thy Tennants woe, 
Becaufe the Deuill and fliee, will haue it fo. 
Hood-her, and Mask-her ; Fanne her with a Feather : 
Let Vanitie and Lightneffe, go together. 
Vpon the pleafure of thy Hawkes and Houndes 
Wafte it away moft prodigall, by poundes. 
Be bountifull in fpending on a Whore, 
And myferable to relieue the poore. 
Feafte euery day, as once the Glutton did, 
And none but Gluttons to thy Banquets bid. 
Receiue thy foode, as Beaftes do feede on Graffe. 
Sit downe like th'Oxe, and rife as doth the Affe, 
Steale Gods good guiftes, and neuer vfe his name, 
Vnleffe in fwearing, to abufe the fame. 
Liue as thou lift : but for thy time fo fpent. 
By me to Judgement, hence thou flialt be fent. 
And this refolue, howeuer Sinne doth dlind-thee, 
Eu'en as DeatJi leaues thee, fo flial hidgement find-thee 



Deathes Epitaph, 

vpon euery mans Graue. 

BEhold thejlate of all the Sonne of Men, 
That line to die, and die they know not when: 
How Flowerlike they wither and decay; 
How foone Deaths Sith doth moiv them downe like Hay. 
How vaine a thing of all thinges els, is Man, 
How fhort his life is meafiir'd out afpan: 
How he is borne with teares, brought vp in paine, 
And how withfighes, he leaues the world againe. 


S, R. 


An Aduei tifement 

to the wife and difcreete 

REader; hee that in difcription of a wic- 
ked man, doth perfonate him, is to 
fpeake as that wicked man, not befee- 
ming a good man; or elfe he can not aptly 
dehuer him in his kinde, fo odious as hee is : 
In refpecl whereof, let not any fpeach herein 
be mifconftrued, which is onely fet downe 
as fpoken by the rebellious Heretiques, the 
more truely to explaine them as notorious as 
they were. Vale. 


N this vn-\veeded Garden of the 
World, hath fprung vp through alagcs 
of thcfajuc, viojl iiimiiiicrahle cuen of 
all for ted kindcs, that haiic been oppo- 
fite to Vertue, and pnrfuers of Vice ; 
Snch as hane zoith great trauell and 
labour taken paynes to goe to Hell, and 
runnc the broade way path ivith Hindes feete, in all poafiing 
fpeede that the Dinell could employ them. Among ft the refl 
of this fearefidl race runners (of their vaidable qualities) here 
is a defer iption of the mofl notorious Rebels and Heretiques of 
Europe, ecrtaine Germane Anabaptifles, fucJi, as luould hauc 
all tilings common, and all men at free tvill and libertie to do 
tuhat they lift, ivithout controwle of any Authoritie : euery 
mans Will Lazv; and cu cry ones Dreame Do6lrine. 

Before the comming of our Sauiour Chrift ; Theudas, and 
ludas Galila^us, tzvo feditious fellowes of fa6lious fpirit,f edu- 
ced the lewes : Thefirft of them faying, that hee zuas a Prophet 
fent from God for mans good; and that by his ozune poiuerfull 
zuord, hee could dcuide the zuaters of Jordan i?i, as admirable 

('^ -• fort, 

To the Reader. 

fort, as lofliua tJie fcniant of the Lord had done. The other, 
did earnejlly promife to enlarge the lewes from the feruitiidc 
and yoke of the Romans : hotJi of them by thefe meanes, dra- 
wing after tJiem great multitudes of people; and both of them 
comming vnto deferued deflrii6lion: For Fatus tJie Goiter- 
Jionr of lury 02iertooke Theudas, and fent his head as a ino- 
miment to lerufalem: ajid ludas likeiuife periJJied, and all Jiis 
foUoiving confederates tvere difperfed. 

After our Sauiour Chrift, in the time of his hlefsed Apo- 
flles, Elimas tJie Soreerer mightely ivitJ flood the proeccding 
of Paule & Barnabas, yi;rc7V/^ the feed of Herefie in the mindc 
of Sergius Paulus Deputie: but the iudgement of God ouer- 
tooke him, and he ivas Jlrucken with blind nejfe. Not long after 
Jiim, in the raigne of Adrian tJie Emperour, arofe an other cal- 
led Bencochab, that prof cffcd himfelfe to be the Mefsias, & to 
hauc defended from Heauen in the likenes of a Starre, for the 
fafetie & redemption of the people: by which fallaeic, he dreio 
after him a luorld of f editions people; but at lafl, hee and 
many of his crcdidous route were flaine, and was called by the 
Icwcs (in eonte7npt) Bencozba (tJiat is) the Sonne of a lie. 

Manes, of tvhom the Maniches tooke their name and firfl 
originall, forged in his fooliJJi braine a fi^ion of two Gods, 


To the Reader. 

and two beginners; and reiccliug the old Tejiavtent, and the 
true God, li'hich is rcuealed in the fame ; publiJJicd a fift Gof- 
pell of Ids oivnc forgeric, reporting hintfelfe to be the Holy 
Ghoft : When he had thus with dinulging his diucliJJi Here- 
Jies and Blafphcmics mfeded tJie zvorld, being piirfucd by Gods 
iujl indgement, hee was for other wieked pra£lizes taken, and 
his sJdnne pidled oner his cares aline. 

Montanus tJiat notorious blafpJienions wretch, of zuhom 
the Montanifts tooke their ofspring, denyed Chrift our Sa- 
niotir to be GOD, faying: Hee was bnt Man onely, like 
other men, withont any participation of Ditdne cfsence: Hee 
called Jdmfclfc the Co7nforter, and Holy fpirit, zvhich zvas pi'o- 
mifcd to come into the world; and Ids two Wines Prifcilla 
and Maximilla, he named his Prophetejfes, and their writings 
Prophefies: yet all their cunning could not prcncnt nor fore- 
tell a %vr etched and defperate end zvhich befell him; for after 
he had of lotig tifne deluded the world, in imitation of ludas, 
hee hanged hintfelfe. 

Infinite are the examples that may be colle6led out of the 
regifiers of foregone ages, touching the lamentable etdlles, 
flaughters, blood, and death, that haue enfued from the dam- 
nable heriticall Infiruments of the Diuell; and hoiv thepeo- 

A. pie 

To the Reader. 

pic (affcfting Noiieltics, and Innovations) hanc concnrrcd 
from time to time, luith the plotters endeuonrs, Hijlories are 
ftill of their memories. Mofl Rebellions do pretende Religion 
for them felnes : No Villaijie bnt dare turnc a good ontfide to 
the eye, though the infide be as bad, as heart ean imagine. 

Thefe in f anions Rebels and Heretiques in Germanie, 
pretended Religion; they zuonld be Refor^ners of the Chnrch, 
and State: neiv Do6lrine of their oivne frantieke co7iceites: 
no Childred Jlioidd be Baptized: all thinges JJiould be com- 
mon, & no Magiftrate to goiLcrnc, bnt enery man at Ids ozvnc 
libertie to doe what he lifi; take ivhatfocucr he flood in need of, 
zvithout pay : plnralitie of Wines: no reconerie of 'wro7igfull 
detayned Goodes, and fnch like villanous roguijli fluffe, that 
neiier a Theefc in the zuorld luonld refufe to fnbfcribc vnto it. 

This was no fooner taught by lohn Leyden, rt'/Z^'j Yoncker 
Hans a DutcJi Taylor, Tom Myiiter a parijli Clarke, Knip- 
perdulling a Smyth, and Crafteing a loyncr; but it was im- 
hraced by thoufandes of the Boores, and vulgar illiterate 
Clozvnes, zvho in great companies dayly reforted vnto them 
foortJc of all Tozvnes and Villages: A mofl rude rafeall corn- 
panic that regarded neither Gods fear e, nor mans fan our, cucn 


To the Reader. 

In their oiitragioiis viadncs, tJicy attempted imich I'illanie, 
omitting to put notlung in pra6lize that Jlood with their hit- 
monrs lyking; as good Conwions Wealths men, as lacke 
Straw, Watt Tyler, Tom Myller, lohn Ball, &e. in the 
raigne of Richard the 2. and as found Dinincs for Doctrine, 
as Rackets Difciplcs; that preaehcd in Cheapefide in a 
Peafc-cart: Yet they found of their oivne f rater nitic to man- 
nagc the Diucls affayres; and mufleritig themfelues togeatJier, 
all conipofed of the fcunibe and zvafle zvorferfort could be ra- 
ken vp, they proceeded fo farre, that they iooke the Tozvne of 
Munfter, and there for a time, domiiieerd as if they had been 
Ele6lors apcece to the Emperour ; vntill beeing belcagerd by 
the Duke of Saxon, they zvere taugJtt to taflc Jiozv Exiremitic 
did fauour, finding the bitterneffc of their rafJi and gracelejfe 
attcmptes, to punifJi iheni moji feueerely in the end: For luheti 
Cattes, Dogges, Rattes and Myce, grczv fearee and daintie, 
(No common difJi, hut cJioycc dyet for lohn Leyden, and the 
Lordes of his eounfailc KnipperduUing the Smyth, Craftehig 
tJic loyner, and Tom Mynter tJie Clarke;) They zvere con- 
Jlrayned to frie old greafie Buffe leather lerkins, and Pai'ch- 
inents, Cooners of Bookes, Bootes in Stcakes, and Stezv-pottes of 
old Shoes, till in the end being famiflied as leanc as dryed 

A 2. Stock- 

To the Reader. 

Stock-fiJJi, they ivcrc fubducd : and Lcydcn {rcho had tearmed 
Jiivifdfc King of IMunfter) ivith his Nobles, made of Smyth, 
loyner, and Parifli-Clarke, iverc according to the iujl rc- 
ivard of all Rebels, p7it to death, ivith great tortinr: and be- 
ing dead, their bodies ivere hang'd in Iron Cages vpon the 
toppe of the high Steeple in Munftcr called S. Lamberts 
Steeple, /i^r an example to all of Rcbell race: Their Confede- 
rates in great inultit2ides Jiauing periflied luitli the Szvord and 
famine, may togeather zuith all Tray tors zvitncjjfe to the zuorld 
throughout all enfuing ages, hozo GOD zvith vengeance re- 
zuardes all fnch State-diflurbers, and factious Rebels. 



I That did a6l on Smythfeildes bloodie Stage, 
In fecond Richards young and tender age: 
And there recel'ud from Wakuorths fatall hand, 
The ftabb of Death, which life did countermand : 

Am made a Prulogue to the Tragedie, 

Of LE YDEN, a Dutch Taylors villanie. 

Not that I ere conforted with that flaue. 

My rafcall rout in HollenJJicd you haue : 

But that in name, and nature wee agree, 

An EngliJJi Traytor I, DiitcJi Rebell hee. 

In my Confort, I had the Prieft loJui Ball; 

Mynter the Clarke, vnto his fhare did fall. 

Hee, to haue all things common did intend : 

And my Rebellion, was to fuch an end. 

Euen in a word, wee both were like apoynted, 




To take the Sword away from Gods Anoynted : 
And for examples to the worlds laft day, 
Our Traytours names fhall neuer weare away: 
The fearefuU Path's that hee and I haue trod, 
Haue bin accurfed in the fight of God. 
Heere in this Regifter, who ere doth looke, 
(Which may be rightly call'd TJie bloody Booke) 
Shall fee how bafe and rude thofe Villains bee, 
That do attempt like LE YDEN; plot like mee. 
And how the Diu'll in whofe name they begon, 
Payes them Hells wages, when their worke is don; 
" Treafon is bloodie; blood thereon attends: 
" Traytors are bloodie, and haue bloodie ends. 



FRoni darke Damnations vault, zvhere Horroiirs dwell, 
Inf email Furies, forth the lake of Hell 
A riiHd on earth, and zvitJi their damned eidls 
FiWd the zuhole zvorldfull of Incarnat Deuils: 
For all thefinnes that Hells vafl gidfe containes, 
hi euery age, and enery kiiigdome raignes: 
Murder, and Treafon, Falfe difloy all plots, 
Sedition, Herefie, and rognifli knots: 
Of trayfrous Rebels; Some of highefl place, 
And fome of mcaneft fort, inofl rafcall bace: 
Of which degree, behold a curfed erne. 
Such as Hells-mouth into the World didfpue: 
lOHN LE YDEN, but a Taylor by his trade, 
Of Munfler towne a King would tieedes be made: 
A Parrifli Clarke, a loyner, and a Smyth, 
His Nobles were, wJioni hee tooke counfell with : 
To thefe adioyned thoufands, Boores and Clownes, 
Out of the Villages, and Germane Townes: 
Whereof great loffe of blood greeuous enfewd, 
Before that Campe of Hell coidd be fubdew d. 

S. R. 



T T\ THen nights blacke mantle ouer th' earth was laide, 
V V And CintJiias face all curtaine-drawne with clouds : 
When vifions do appeare in darkfome fhade, 
And nights fweet reft, dayes care in quiet llirowds; 
About the hower of twelue in dead of night, 
A mangled Corfe appeared to my fight. 

Skin torne, Flefh wounded, vgly to behold: 
A totterd Body peece-meale pull'd in funder: 
Harken (quoth hee) to that which fhall be told, 
And looke not thus amaz'd with feare and wonder: 
Though I am all beftabbed, flafh'd, and torne, 
I am not Cafar, him, an's ghofl I fcorne. 

Icke bin Hans Leyden; vnderftandft thou Dutch? 
10 HN LEYDEN King of Munjlevy I am hee, 
That haue in Germanie bin feard as much. 
As any Ccefar in the world could bee : 
From the firft houre that I armes did take, 
I made the Germaine Gallants feare and quake. 

B. By 



By facultie at firft, I was a Taylour, 
But all my minde was Kingly eue'ry thought : 
For e'en with Cerberus, Hels dogged laylour, 
A combat hand to hand I durft haue fought: 
Then with my trade, what's hee that hath to doo? 
Old Father Adam was a Tayloiir too: 

Hee made him Fig leaue Breeches at his fall, 

And of that ftufife his Wife a Kirtle wore: 

Then let both Needle, Threed, my Sheares and all, 

Keepe with the trade ; a Noble minde I bore : 

And let this Title witnes my renowne, 

10 HN LE YD EN T ay lour, King of Mtmjler towne. 

My Councellcrs were thefe, a valiant Smyth, 
As tall a man as euer ftrooke a heate, 
Call'd K nipper dtdling', wondrous full of pith : 
Craftiftg the loyner, one of courage great : 
Tom Myntcr, a madd Rogue, our Parrijh Clarke, 
Whofe doflrine wee with diligence did marke. 




Hee taught on topp of Mole-hill, Bufh, and Tree, 
The Traytors text in England; Par/on Ball 
Affirming wee ought Kings apeece to bee. 
And euery thing be common vnto all : 
For when old Adam delu'd, and Euah fpan, 
Where was my filken veluet Gentleman ? 

Wee Adams Sonnes; Hee Monarch of the Earth, 
How can wee chufe but be of Royall blood? 
Beeing all defcended from fo high a birth? 
Why fhould not wee fhare wealth, and worldly good? 
Tufh Maifters (quoth Tom Mynter) reafon binds it, 
Hee that lacks Mony, take it where he finds it. 

Why, is not euery thing Gods guift, we haue ? 
Doe Beaftes and Cattell buy the Graffe they eate? 
Shall that be fould, which Nature freely gaue? 
Why fhould a Man pay Mony for his Meate, 
Or buy his Drinke, that parboyld Beere and Ale, 
The Fyfhes broth, which Brewers do retayle? 




Pray who is Landlord to the Lyons den? 
Or who payes Houfe-rent for the Foxes hole ? 
Shall Beaftes enioy more priuiledge then Men? 
May they feed dayly vpon that is ftole, 
Eating and drinking freely Natiir's ftore, 
Yet pay for nought they take, nor goe on fcore? 

Do not the Fowles fliare fellow like together, 
And freely take their foode eu'en where they pleafe, 
A whole yeeres dyet coftes them not a Fether? 
And likewife all the Fyfhes in the Seas, 
Do they not franckly feed on that they get, 
And for their victu'als are in no mans debt ? 

And fliall Man, being Lord of all the reft, 

(Vnto whofe feruice thefe were all ordayned) 

Of meate, nor drinke, nor clothing, be poffeft, 

Vnleffe the fame by Mony be obtayned? 

Pay Houfe-rent, buy his foode, and all his clothing, 

When other Creatures haue good cheare for nothing? 




Wee'le none of that (quoth I, to my conforts.) 
No (quoth Tom Myntcr) frends, it ought not bcc : 
Come Libertic, and Wealth, and Princely /ports: 
Why, Kings are made of Clay; and fo are wee: 
Wee'le ayme our thoughts on high, at Honors marke: 
All rowly, powly; Tayler, Smyth, and Clarke. 

Wee are the men will make our Valours knowne, 

To teach this doting world new reformation : 

New Lawes, and new Religion of our owne. 

To bring our felues in v/ondrous admiration : 

Let's turne the world cleane vpfide downe, (mad flaucs) 

So to be talk'd of, when w'are in our Graues. 

Braue Knipperdiilling, fet thy Forge on fire. 
It fhall be done this prefent night (quoth hee,) 
Tom ]\Ty liter, leaue Amen vnto the Quier. 
Quoth Tom, I fcorne hencefoorth a Clarke to bee, 
Cornellis, hang thy woodden loyners trade, 
For Noble-men apeece you fliall be made. 




And fellow mates; Nobles and Gallants all, 
To IMaieftie you muft your mindes difpofe: 
My Lord Hans Hogg, forfake your Butchers flail. 
Hcndrick the Botcher, ccafe from heeling Hofc. 
Claffc Chaundler, let your Weick and Tallow lye. 
And Pcctcr Cobler, caft your old Shooes by. 

For you my valiant Lords, are men of witt, 
And farre too good for bafe and feruile trades. 
Your Martiall power may be compared fitt, 
Vnto the flrength of our ftrong Germane lades : 
Who if they had but knowledge to their force. 
What whiftling Car-man could commaund his Horfe.^ 

Your guifts arc rare, and fmgular to finde, 
Beeing full of courage, refolute, and wife : 
Yet to behold thefe parts you haue bin blinde. 
Oh could you fee your Valour with mine eyes, 
You would exclame that Ignoraunce fo long, 
Hath done fo v/orthy Men, fuch open wrong. 




But now my Lyon-harted Caualiers, 

Let vs march after war-like Mars his Drome, 

Your Prentifliips arc out of fubie6l yeeres; 

Now let vs fliow the Houfcs whence wee come : 

For wondrous matters there are to be done, 

Crownes muft be conquerd, Kingdoms mufl be wonne. 

To7n Alyiitcr, goe and preach vnto the Boores 
All Libertie, all Freedome, Eafe, and Wealth: 
And if they will, alow them Oueanes and Whores : 
Bid them Drinke free, and pledge Good-fellows health : 
Say Goods are common, each man to fuffize, 
The Rich-mans purfe, is Poore-mans lawfull prize. 

Tell them, they need not ftand on honeft dealing, 
To borrow Mony, and to pay againe : 
And thofe that haue occafion to be ftealing. 
May take a Purfe, if need do fo conflraine: 
Poore Men mufl haue it : Gentlemen muft Hue : 
Good-fellowes cannot flay till Llifers giue. 





There's none of vs (my Maifters) but may want, 
Our Purfes may haue emptie ftomackes all, 
But he fhall finde his dyet to be fcant, 
Whofe credit's fcord vpon an Ale-houfe wall, 
I owe a debt my felfe onely for Beere, 
Amounts to more then I haue earnd this yeere. 

And let me come to a bafe Tapfters houfe. 
Where I but owe fome twentie doofen of Beere, 
The rafcall will not giue me one carowfe. 
But tels me ftraight how eu'ery thing is deere : 
Tis a hard world, the Brewer muft be pay'd : 
Thus on my emptie Purfe the Villaine play'd. 

This is his ftate, v/hofe Purfe is lyned thin. 

And goes on truft, beholding for his fliot. 

With, By your leaue, hee muft come creeping in : 

I pray you Brother, let vs haue a Pot, 

How does all heere? pray is mine Hoftes well? 

Curffe not your debters : How doeft honeft Nell. 



This fliaking humor, I do much detefi, 

Which emptie Purfes do infli6i: on fome: 

I can not be beholden, I proteft, 

Mony muft make mee welcome where I come: 

If Siluer in my Pockets do not ring, 

All's out of tune v/ith mee in eu'ry thing. 

What extreame griefe doth Monyes want procure? 
Hov/ madd and franticke doth it make the minde? 
Againe, how chearefully can ]\Iony cure ? 
When Phificke comes in Gold, and Siluer's kinde, 
To thinke on this, what's hee, that would not craue it. 
And fight himfelfe out of his skin to haue it? 

Thus my braue Caualiers, you plainely fee, 
Vpon what golden ground wee fet our foote, 
Courage Dutch bloods, I fay couragious bee, 
Wee will haue Wealth, and Libertie to boote : 
Let vs goe fonvard as we haue begone. 
And wee'le make bloody fport before ti's done. 





confortes; the firjl inuentoys of the 

Drcanics and Dotages of the 

heriticall Anahaptifts 

in Gernianie. 

THere neuer was fo odious a pretence, 
Nor any A(5l fo wicked and fo vile, 
But fome would take vpon them a defence 
To colour it ; the eafier to beguile 
The fimple fort, which haue vnftaycd mindes, 
Whofe haftie Judgment Errour eafly blindes. 

So thefe leawd wretches, fprung from Villain race, 

That had all Pietie in detefbation : 

A Rafcall fort, that were eu'en fpent of Grace, 

Would take on them Religions reformation : 

And in the fore-front of their villanie, 

Tom Mynter vtters new fond Herezie. 




Dearc Friends (quoth he) that wee may hauc fucceffe, 

In this our honorable entcrprife: 

Which you fliall fee the very heau'ens will bleffe, 

If from a Chriftian zeale it do arife, 

Let's mendc the Church in matters are amilTc, 

Efpecially in one thing; which is this, 

C/iriJl gauc commifsion to the twelue, faying: 
l7ito all Nations; Preach, and there Baptize. 
So that you fee the very Avordes doe fliowe, 
And from the fubftaunce of them doth arife, 
Wee flrft muft be of yeeres to vnderfhand, 
Before wee take that Sacrament in hand. 


Therefore wee'le haue no Babes to be Baptized, 
Vntill thy come to yeeres of ripe difcretion, 
That of the Fayth they may be firft aduifed 
And yeeld the world accompt of their profefsion ; 
For you may fee, vnleffe your fight be blinde. 
Belief e is firft, and B apt if vie comes behind c. 




And yet (my Maiftars) you may dayly fee, 
In any Country where fo ere you come, 
Such flore of httle Children chriftned bee : 
T'is infinite for one to count the fumme: 
But let vs take another courfe, I pray; 
Thofe forward Sucklings fhall hereafter fla}-. 

What fay you to it? are you all agree' d, 

That this fame do6lrine fliall be our chiefe ground ? 

It fhall (fayd Lcydcii) and I haue decreed, 

That it be helde for holfome, good, and found : 

And for example I haue thought it beft, 

To be new Chriftned heere, before the reft. 

Let's haue a Bafon, and fome Water ftraight, 
With all the prefent fpeed it may be brought : 
For I perceiue this matter is of waight. 
My Chrift'ning when I was a Child, is nought; 
Surely I thinke I am no Chriftian yet, 
A Bookc good honeft Myntcr quickly get. 




Well fayd, ar't readie? Shall wee need God-father? 

Yes : take you Harman Croinmc, or any other : 

I haue a minde to Knippcrdiilling rather: 

And Tamickin may ferue to be God-mother, 

Or KnipperdtiUing ioyn'd with Harmon Cromme : 

Let it be fo: fome water; quickly come. 

Thus on they goe, with errours foule defil'd, 

In rude prophaning Holy ordinaunce: 

And Myntcr asketh, Who doth name the Child ? 

Call him (quoth Knipperdnlling) Yonckcr Hafts, 

His noble minde, and nature do agree, 

And therefore hee a Yoncher Hans fliall be. 

Now (quoth Tom Mynter) let mee make a motion, 
To which I do befeech you all incline : 
Let cuery man that's hcere, with one deuotion. 
Come follow mee to drinke fome Rennifh wine; 
Our inward loue, let outward deedes reueale it, 
And to the Taueme let vs goe and feale it. 



The Rebels dayly iiicreafing in gnat multitudes of the 
mde Bo ores, and illiterate Clozvnes, propounded vnto 
thenifehies diners monjlrons abfnrdities, confir- 
med by their Captaincs Yoncker, Hans, and 
Knipperdulling: ivJdch by tJicni arc 
Intituled Tzuelue Articles of 
Chriflian Libert ie. 

WHat is it from the Cocatricc doth paffe, 
But fuch a natur'd Serpent as him felfe ? 
What fees an Ape within a Looking-glaffe, 
But a deformed, and ill fauour'd elfe? 
What Good fruite commeth from an euill tree? 
Or how fhould Villains ought but Villains bee ? 

Like defper'at mad-men, voyde of Reafons v'fe, 

They run to any outrage can be thought : 

And Libertie is made the Rebels fcufe, 

Which now by Dreames and Fancies fo hath wrought, 

That Yoncker Hans vnto his rable rout, 

Twelue Articles of Libertie giues out. 




And firfb fets downc: They need not ftand in feare 

Of Magiftrate or Ruler, for offence : 

But they themfelues might caufes freely heare, 

And fo end matters; fauing much expence 

Of Coyne in Fees, which vnto Lawyers fall : 

For wee'Ie (quoth Yonhcr Hans) be Lawyers all. 

If that a wrong to any man be done, 
Let him repaire to mee, and my two Lords, 
Wee'Ie end the ftrife fo foone as ti's begone : 
For halfe a doozen of Beere, in quiet words. 
And make them drlnke together, and be friends, 
Shake hands, and like good fellowes make amends. 

Next, if a man s difpofed for to ride, 
And hath no Horfe, nor doth intend to hire, 
Hee may take one vpon the high-way fide, 
To ferue, as his occafion doth require, 
Ali-wayes prouided, when his lournye's don, 
Hee is to turnc him loofc, and let him run. 




Alfo, if any Woman chauncc to marrie, 
And that her Husband prooue not to her minde, 
Shoe fhall be at her choyce with him to tarrle, 
Or take an other whom flie knowes more kinde : 
Wee thinke it meete no Woman fliould be bound, 
To him in whom no kindnes can be found. 

For if fhee match for Wit, and hee turne Clowne, 
Or any way her bargaine prooueth ill, 
Shee may ftay with him till her wedding Gowne 
Be worne, and then be at her owne free-will, 
To take another, and exchange the Lout : 
This Law of ours, fliall ferue to beare her out. 

Yea, further (which fhould hauc bin fayd before) 
That man which hath not Wife enough of one, 
Why, let him (if he pleafe) take halfe a fcore : 
Wee'Ie be his warrant, for to builde vpon: 
Wee in our wifedomes do alow it fo. 
For good found reafons that Avee haue to fliow. 





For fay, you meete with fucli, as moft men do, 
Of this fame proud, and idle hufwife brood, 
Shrewifh, and toyifli ; foolifh, queanifh to : 
Full of bad faults, and nere an inch that's good : 
What fliould men do with fuch vngratious wiues ? 
Turnc them to graffe, and fo Hue quiet liues. 

Befides, Tenants fhall need to pay no rent. 

The Earth's the Lord's, and all that is therein: 

Land-lords may hang them-felues with one confent; 

And if they pleafe, next Quarter day begin : 

Wee will not be indebted vnto any, 

But be Free-holders, paying not a penny. 

All Bonds and Bils, lliall be of no effe6l : 
And hee that will not pay his Debt, may chufe : 
This Hand, and Seale, no man fliall need refpe6l: 
Day of the month; and toyes that Scriueners vfe: 
Sheepe-skins, and Waxe, fhall now no more preuayle, 
To bring a man into the dolefuU layle. 




All Prifons fhall be prefently pul'd downe, 
For wee will liaue good Fellowes walke at large: 
A paire of Stocks fliall not appeare in Towne: 
This in our names, wee very ftraiglitly charge : 
What reafon is it when the hands haue ftole, 
To put the Legs into a wodden hole? 

No man fhall need obay any Areft, 

Let th' a6lion be what t'Avill, trefpaffe or debt : 

All Surety-lliip, fhall be an idle left : 

No Creditor thereby fliall vantage get : 

All Beafls and Cattell, Oxen, Sheepe, and Kine, 

Shall be his that will haue them : yours, and mine. 

All Forrefts, Parks, and Chafes, fhall be free 

For each man that delighteth in the game : 

Orchards and Gardens likewife common bee : 

All Fruites and Hearbs, let him that will come clayme: 

And euery thing that any man fliall need. 

According to his will, let him proceed. 

D 2. 




Who will not draw his weapon in this caufc, 
And fight it out, as long as he can ftand? 
Which of you all will difalow thefe Lawes, 
And will deny our Articles his hand? 
Then all cry'd out, This Do6lrinc wee'lc defende, 
And lines a peece about it wee Avill fpende. 

Our Will's our Law; our Swordes the fame fliall pen, 
What wee decree, let's fee who dare refift? 
Wee care not for the Lawes of other men. 
But will without controule do what wee lift : 
Wee are growne ftrong; and wee are veiy wife, 
My honeft Gentlemen, let this fuffize. 

With courage now let vs our felues addreffe, 

Attempting on the fodaine JMunJlcr Towne : 

Let cuery one be in a readines, 

Kind Fortune fmyles : regard not ^vho doth frowne : 

At euery Church wee'le hang a Tauerne figne, 

And wafli our Horfes feete in Rennifli-wine. 



The Rebels in a furious rcfolution, enter the Townc of 

Munfter: ivJicrc zvith infolent proude audatious 

Spirits, they infli£l mofl iniurious wronges 

vpon the inhabitants, taking greatefl 

glorie in acling z'iilajiie. 

With defp'rat Refolution, mad-brainc heat, 
Munfter they enter like to fauage Beares : 
The Cittizens no fauour could entreat, 
For all their goods are common, Leyden fweares 
Catch that catch may; hee bids his Souldiers fhare, 
Deuide the fpoyle, and take no further care. 

Freely fupply your wants, who euer lackes : 
Chearely my harts ; eate, drinke, and domineere, 
Ryfell the rich and wealthy Marchants packes : 
Make all things cheape that heeretofore were deere : 
And where you finde an Vfurer, be bold 
To cut his throat, and take away his gold. 





Adornc }-our fclucs in princely braue attire, 

Put downe with State the Emperours of Roonie : 

And giuc the foohfli world caufe to admire, 

And fa}-, wee paffe, each bafe and common Groome : 

Though fome of you (my Lords) came from the Plow, 

Wee'le make them ftoope, that haue difdaind to bow. 

Hauc >'ou not heard that ScytJiian Tamberlaine 
Was earfl: a Sheepheard ere he play'd the King? 
Firft oucr Cattell hce began his raigne, 
Then Countries in fubie6lion hee did bring: 
And P'ortuncs fauours fo mayntain'd his fide, 
Kings were his Coach-horfe, when he pleaf'd to ride. 

Do 3'Ou not fee our valorous fucceffe, 
How eafily wee hauc attayn'd this Towne .'' 
What thinke you then in time wee fliall poffeffe, 
When Greatnes comes to backc vs with renowne.'' 
Why fure I thinke our fhares will fo incrcafe, 
That wee finall let out Kingdomes by the leafc. 




Fill Bowles of Wine, and let vs drinke a health: 
Carowfe in Glaffes that arc fine foote deepe : 
You worthy members of the Common-wealth, 
Munjlcr is ours, and M?uijlcr wee will keepe : 
Boone-fier the ftreets ; fet Bells a worke to ring 
For ioy a Taylour is become a King. 

Bring foorth all Pris'ners prefently to nice, 
And let the Magiftrates fupply their place; 
Frifons for true-men now fhall only bee: 
Brauc Theeues, with many fauours wee will grace, 
Such men as they, with courage do proceed, 
And of their feruice wee fliall ftand in need. 

For Theeues (you know) of feare make no account, 

They'Ie hazard hanging, for a little gaine: 

And though vnto the Gallowes top they mount. 

Both Halter and the Hang-man they disdaine, 

How many die at Tyburne in a yeere.-' 

Would make vs gallant Souldiers, were they hecre. 




lie tell ycc Pvlaifters, I haue knowne men die, 
That haue out-brau'd the Hang-man to his face: 
Such as would giue an Empcroitr the lie, 
And valiant take a Purfe in any place. 
Bid a man ftand vpon the hige-\vay fide, 
When he hath had exceeding hafte to ride. 

As full of courage as their skins could hold, 
Spending as franckly as they freely got : 
Scowring the rufl from Siluer and from Gold, 
That Mifers hoorded vp and vfed not : 
As honeft men as wee, in all their dealing. 
And yet are hang'd for nothing but for ftealing. 

Example to you of a friend He make. 
And I befecch you all, to note the thing : 
Who being to be married, went and fpake 
Vnto a Goldfmith for a wedding Ring, 
And comming for it when he fliould be wed, 
The dorcs were fliut, and e'r>^ one abed : 




Hee had no reafon ftand and knocke all day, 
But brake the windowes open, in a ieft, 
Taking all Rings he found, with him away, 
To chufe his owne the better, from the reft : 
Meaning to put the Gold-fmith but in feare. 
In making him fuppofe fome Theefe were there. 

Well, this poore fellow hee was apprehended. 
Brought to the Barr, and as a Fellon try'd, 
And yet you fee hee ieftingly offended, 
Hauing good reafon for it on his fyde : 
But all his proteftations were in vaine, 
For he was hang'd in earneft for his paine. 

Another honeft fellow as hee went, 

Did draw a Halter after him along, 

Thinking no hurt, nor hauing an intent 

To offer any kind of creature wrong: 

One comes behind him was the Hang-mans frend, 

And tvde a Horfc vnto the Halters end. 




The owner met him leading of his beaft, 
And charged him with fellony (poore man) 
Although in this fame matter he knew leafl, 
There is no rcmedie, fay what he can 
To prifon, hang him for an arrant thiefe. 
How fay my maifters is not this a griefe? 

But wee'le take order for fuch matters now, 
For theeucs and Gentlemen fliall be all one, 
To take a purfc, or horfe, we will allow, 
And let him boldly do it that hath none: 
Take any thing that any man fliall lacke, 
To fill the belly and to cloth the backe. 

If any finde himfelfc herewith agreeued, 
Let him be whipt and banifht forth the townc, 
With rich mens goods w^e meanc to haue releeued 
The very pooreft meane and bafeft clowne, 
Weele haue it fo my Lords, it fliall be thus. 
Lets fee who dare but ftand on tearmes with vs. 




Tqvi ]\Iyntcr, prethc fearcli the towne with fpeed, 
Chufe out the fayreft of the female kinde, 
Some luftie wenches of the Germane breedc, 
For to the flefli I feel my felfe inclinde : 
Some halfe a dofen wiues for me prouide, 
And flocke me with fome Concubines befide. 

Go to the Goldfmithes in my princely name, 
Will and commaund them prefently forthwith 
They fend fuch chaynes and Jewels as I clayme 
By K nipper dcillings mouth, my Lord the Smith, 
Without demaunding any thing therefore, 
I neither meane to pay, nor go on fcore. 

Let others to the iNIercers fliops repayre, 
And tell them we do filke and veluet lacke, 
Our feame-rent Souldiers are exceeding bare, 
Scant any tatters hanging on their backe. 
Rich Taffata and Veluet of three pile, 
Muft ferue our vfe to fwagger in a while. 




Commaund the Marchants to fupply our Court 
With all abundance of the choyfeft Wine : 
Vnto the Butchers likewife make refort, 
Bid them prouid vs Oxen, Sheepe, and Swine : 
Charge Brewers to prefent vs with their trade, 
And that their Beere be fomewhat ftronger made. 

The Baker in his office to appeere, 
His Mealy-worfhip wee do greatly want: 
And ftore of Cookes let vs haue likewife heere, 
To dreffe our difhes, that they be not fcant : 
All things in plentic, and abundant ftore, 
Bee merry, eatc, and drinke, and call for more. 

This for a Refolution wee fct downe, 
And do ordaine that it continue ftill : 
All is our owne that is within the Towne, 
And wee are men that haue the world at will : 
Fill Bowles of Wine, carowfe a High-Dutch round, 
For Cares lye conquerd, and our loyes are croun'd. 



Munfler being befciged by tJic Duke of Saxonic, the Rebels 
indiwe great injffcrie, and extremitie by famiJJiment ; but 
conjirained in the cud to yeelde: their principall 
Captaines Leyden, Knipperdulling, and Myn- 
ter, arc tortnr'd and put to death, for exam- 
ple to all of Rebellious damned difpofi- 
iion, ending as defperatc, as their 
Hues zvere diuelifli. 

AMbitions wheele, which Traytors do afpire, 
Hath brought the Rebels to their altitude : 
And now declining, downe-Avard they retire, 
By iuft Reuenge a downe-fall to conclude, 
From top of Treafon, thus they turne about : 
For now behold, their curfed date run out. 

The Martiall Dtike layd feige vnto them now, 

Preuenting them of needfull wants fupply. 

With Hungers fharpeft fword, to make them bow 

No expeftation but refolue to dye, 

Their length of life was meafur'd by their ftore, 

Which could not be enlarg'd a crum the more. 





Yet moft cxtreame hard cruell fliift they made, 

Holding the towne befieg'd aboue a ycere, 

In which fliarpe time their paunches were betraide 

Of all their former feaftes and belly cheere, 

For each man's ftomack deem'd his throat was cut, 

There was fuch cmptineffe in ery gut. 

When wholefome foode was all confumde and gone, 

After a hard allowance they had paft, 

Horfes and Dogges they lickt their lips vpon, 

Then Rats and Mife grew dalntie meate at laft, 

Olde fliooes they boyld, which made good broth befide, 

Bufifc-lcthcr lerkins cut in Steakes they fride. 

Not an olde payre of Bootes did walkc the ftrcete, 
Their bellies could not fpare their legs the lether. 
But ftew'd they were, and hunger made them fweete, 
For with that fauce they fhar'd alike together. 
Couers of Bookes were in like maner dreft. 
And happie he was fuch a diflies gheft. 




The Chaundlers crawling tallow vtt'red well, 

It feru'd Hans Leydcn and his Lords owne table, 

There was no fault found with the tafte nor fmell, 

Their onely griefe was this, they were not able 

To maintaine that good cheerc, which grew fo fcant. 

Of filthie kitchin ftuffe they found great want. 

When they had eaten vp the Chaundlers trade, 
As likewife all the ware Shoomakers had, 
The Scriueners fhops for parchment they inuade, 
And feize vpon it euen hunger mad, 
Cancelling with their teeth both bond and bill, 
Looke after debts and pay them he that will. 

In thefe extreames (quoth Leydcn to the reft) 
What fhall we doe in this accurfed cafe ? 
Aduife me no^y Tom Mynter what were beft, 
What's to be done in this fame hungry place i* 
Speake Knippcrdidliug lets haue thy aduice, 
There's no prouifion left of Rats and Mice. 




Why, fire the Towne, as late I did my Forge, 
(Quoth K nipper dulling) I do thinke it mectc, 
Leaft Saxon imitate Englifh Saint George, 
And trample vs like Dragons vndcr fecte: 
Like Troy, let flame and fmoake afcend the skyes, 
Wee burne like Phcnix, that in fier dyes. 

Or let vs on a fodaine iffue out. 

And rufli vpon thofe rafcals keepe vs in : 

Mofl: defperat in that wee go about, 

As not refpe6ling if wee lofe or win : 

Be as it will, wee haue but Hues to fpend, 

A pufife of breath, and thercwithall an end. 

In this eftate defpayring of their Hues, 
lohn Leyden plots in his fantaftiquc hed, 
To fend out of the Towne one of his Wiues 
Vnto the Duke, to tell him fliee is fled 
From thofe accurfed Rebels, to his grace. 
To fignific the Citties wcakcft place. 




Thou mufl (quoth hee) play luditJis part for all, 

And free vs from this fame Afsirian hoft : 

Bring Holofcnics head vnto the wall, 

That thus againft Bcthnlia doth boft : 

I had a Vifion did appeare to mee, 

Which fignified thou fhould'ft our ludith bee. 

And by thy meanes deliueraunce procure, 
Sauing our Hues, to thy immortall prayfe : 
Then holy woman, put this worke in vTe, 
Thou feeft \ve die, if wee indure delayes : 
Thou haft rare beautie, on with rich attire, 
And good fucceffe incline to thy defire. 

This filly Woman eafily deluded, 
Prepares her felfe vnto the enterprife : 
Departs the Towne as Leyden had concluded, 
Vnto the Di^ke, attyred in difguife, 
As if fhee had by fecret made efcape. 
Taking on her an Hipocrites true fhape. 




Deliuers all the cunning (lie was taught, 

To gainc her credit, and to free fufpe6l. 

The Duke mifdoubts her pra6lize to be nought, 

And by examination findes direct 

The plot, and all the drift why fliee was fcnt, 

And thus to worke with this falfe ludith Avent. 

A Scafibld was erefled in the fight 
Of all the Rebels, that they might perceiue 
Their Gentlewoman playd not ludith right : 
Becaufe her head behind her fhe did leauc : 
" For Treafon neuer is fo well contriu'd, 
" But flill the plotter is the fliorteft liu'd. 

Then did the Duke affault them ver}' ftrong, 

Who being Aveake, vnable to refift, 

Tir'd out with Famine they endured long, 

And did fubdue them euen as he lift : 

Such leane Anotaniics they feemed all, 

Like thofe dry bones in the Chirurgeons hall. 




And heere ends LE YDENS kingdome and his raigne, 

His counterfayted tytle's out of date, 

Hee is loJin Lcydcn Taylor now againe: 

And thofe that were his Noble-men of late, 

Are eu'en reftored to their firft degree, 

Smyth, Clarke, and loyner, arrant Knaues all three. 

To their deferued deaths they are appoynted, 

For all their villanies, and extreame wrongs : 

Drawne through the Cittie ftreets, and then disioynted, 

Their flefli torne from the bones with fieiy tongs : 

And as their hues did to all mifcheife tend, 

So did the defp'rat vnrepentant end. 

Being dead, there were three Iron Cages made 
For ftrength and fubftaunce to endure and laft, 
And into them their bodyes were conueyd, 
And on the Citties higheft Steeple plafl, 
Lcydai hung higheft, to expreffe his pride, 
Myntcr, and KnipperduUing, on each fide. 





The like reward, be like offenders due. 
Let Traytors ends be violent, and euill : 
And as thefe paft, fo all that fliall cnfue, 
Let them receiue their wages from the Deuill : 
Hee fets a worke, and ftirres them to afpire, 
And is to pay them vengeauncc for their hire. 




Terrible Battell be- 

tweene the two confumers 

of the whole World: 
Time, and Death. 

By Samuell Rowlands. 

Printed at London for lohn Deane, and are to be fold at his 
fhop at Temple barre vnder 





the wife and well accomplifht 
Gen^: M. George Gaywood, 

health and happineffe. 

I R, the great and good report wJdchmy beloiied 
friend {the hearer Jiereof) hath giuen of yon, hath 
made me more then halfe in lotie tvithyon, which 
makes me thinke in fofnefort (as the rude and ru- 
sticke plirafe is) to f cratch acquaintance ofyouMut 
fir helecue it to be thus,foryoufJiallfinde itfo, that 
this isnot doncof purpofc todraiifrojuyou ajiy bounty or reivarde to 
me, for my Penne neuer zuas, nor iieuerfJialbe, {God faying Ainen,) 
Mercinar'ie: but to let you knozu that the bringer hereof ivho doth ac- 
knozuledge Jiimfelfe to be more indebted toyoit then hispoore cfiate or 
deie6led life can make fat isfacl ion for) JiatJifomc friends, that willin 
haitefJieivedtohim. Thisvnfpeakablc loueandkindncffcof yours ex- 
tended to him, hathmademe to dedicate thisfillieivorkvntoyou,zuhich 
bythegenerallreportofyourworthincffe, I thinke vnworthie your ac- 
ceptance. Butifitpleafeyoutocallbackagaincfomeofthelouewhich 
toyou, hutasagratulationfromvieforhim,then I make no doubt but 
youwillacccptitfor his fake, ifnot,yetflillIiuillreflyourfriende and 
Wel-willer, made fo by my friends report. 

.S .R 

A blotidy Battell betwixt 
Ti7ne and Death. 

Read potent Monfber, mighty fro thy birth, rp. 
Gyant of ftrength, againft al mortal power, 
Gods great Earle MarJIiall onox al the earth : 
y| Taking account of each mans dying houre, 

Landlord of Graues, and Toombs of Marble flones, 

Lo}'d Treafiirer of rotten dead-mens bones. 

Viflorious confort, Slautering Caualier, 
Mated with me, to combat all aliue, 
Know worthy Champion, I haue met thee here. 
Only to vnderftand how matters thriue: 
As our affayres alike in nature be, 
So let vs loue, conferre, and kind agree. 
A 3 


A bloiidy Battell 

Great Regefter of all things vnder Sunne, 
Gods fpeedy poaft, that euer runs and flyes, 
Ender of all that euer was begun, 
That haft the Mappe of life before thine eyes : 
And of all Creatures fince the worlds creation, 
Haft feene the finall dufty confumation. 

Death. Let me entreat thee pardon me a while, 
Becaufe my bufmeffe now is very great, 
I muft go trauayle many a thoufand mile, 
To looke with care that Wormes do lacke no meat : 
Theres many crawling feeders I maintaine, 
I may not let thofe Cannibals complaine. 

I muft fend murtherers with fpeed to Hell, 
That there with horror they may make abode, 
I muft fliew Atheyfts where the Deuils dwell. 
To let them feele there is a powerfull God : 
I muft invyte the Glutton and the Lyer, 
Vnto a banquet made of flambes of fire. 

betweene Time and Death. 

I muft bring Pride where Fafliions are inuented, 

[You ydle headed Women, quake and feare] 

Your toyifh fooleries will be preuented, 

A fhute of crawling Serpents you fhall weare : 

You that endeuor onely to go braue, 

What Hel afifoords, you fhal be fure to haue. 

I haue the fwagring Ruffian to difpatch, 
That moth and canker of the common wealth, 
The graceles Theefe, that on the pray doth watch, 
The dronkard a carroAvfmg of his health : 
And of all fniners fuch a damned rowt. 
As full of worke as Death can ftir about. 

This lawfull buf'nes I do well allow. Time. 

But in my abfence how wilt thou proceeded 

I muft be prefent too as well as thou. 

Before Time come thou canft not doe the deed" 

My Sythe cuts downe ; vpon thy dart they die, 

Thou haft an houre glaffe, and fo haue I. 

B Looke 

A blottdy Bat tell 

Looke my kinde Death, here is fome fand to run, 

[What do I bid thee look that haft no eies] 

Let's fuffer their laft minute to be don, 

Some man repents the inftant when he dies: 

As one example I remember chiefe. 

Of him that died a Saint, and liu'd a Theefe. 

Death Thou fpeak'ft it true, that penitent indeede 
Had neuer happy houre till his laft, 
But of like fecond fmner who can readf 
From fuch a hellifh life to heauen paft, 
But one, to keepe pore fmners from difpaire, 
And from prefumption, one, and he moft rare. 

Thou knowft all flefli that is of woman borne, 

Corruptly vnto fm giues full confent, 

Seruing the Diuell with the fineft corne, 

Their pleafure, youth, and ftrength, on him is fpent: 

And when the night of age brings painfull grones, 

Then in Gods difh they caft their rotten bones. 


betweene Time and Death. 

Who would not cenfure him a fooHfh man, 
To loyter out the fpring and fommer tide? 
And when another reapes, make feede time than 
Expe6ling what the feafon had deni'de, 
Yet fuch bad husbands hell affourds good-cheap 
Will vndertake to fow, when others reape. 

Some make my pi6lure a mofl common thing, 
As if I were continual in their thought, 
A Deaths hed feale vpon a great gold ring, 
And round about Memento Mori wrought : 
Which memory with gold cannot agree. 
For he that hates the fame beft thinks on me. 

I onely am a welcome frend to fuch 

As know by me they enter vnto reft, 

And that no fecond death their foules can touch, 

The peace of confcience harbors in their breft. 

And with the diuell, flefh and world, ftill ftriue, 

Vntill at Canaan they doe ariue. 

B 2 But 


A bloitdy Battell 

But Time for tother thou flialt witneffe be, 
How moft vnwilHng thofe fame wretches die, 
Their ends thou daily doeft behold and fee, 
And can'ft enforme the world I do not lie, 
With horror, griefe, and anguifli difcontented. 
In foule, and body, furioufly tormented. 

Time Surely they are, their ftates cannot be told, 
We apprehend but outward things in fight, 
Moft fearefull are thofe obie6ls to behold. 
That curfe their birth and time they faw the light ; 
Sinne hath no falue but mercy, that they craue-not, 
Repentance, findeth grace, and that they haue-not. 

Death I came to kill a Vfurer of late, 

And ftaying by his bed a while for thee. 
His fpeech was all of mony-bags and plate, 
But not a word of God : nor thought of me : 
Quicke, fetch a fcriuener, let a bil be drawne, 
Sirrha, your day is broke, ile keepe your pawne. 


betwixt Time and Death. 

Intreat me not : you fhould haue kept time better, 
Thou fhalt buy wit, a foole muft feele the fmart, 
Get me a Seriant, to areft a debter, 
And with that word, my mace went through his heart, 
Thus died the wretch, Avith Mony, Bond, and Bill, 
And if God haue him, t'was againft his will. 

When this bad fellowes date was thus croft out, 

I do remember we came to a place 

Where laye a Dines groning of the gowte, 

Crying Lord, Lord, methought he ment for grace. 

Vntill I heard the burden of his fong. 

Was, Lord where may this Tiodior Jiay fo long. 

Sir (quoth his wife) twere good haue a Diuine; 

Thou art a foole (faid he) I need him not, 

I haue a hart as perfe6l founde as thine. 

What is there not a Do6lor to be got? 

A Do6lor with al expedition wife. 

My legges wil make me weary of my life. 

B s This 

A blotidy Battell 

rr,- This mifers anfwere I hauc noted frend, 

In ficknes men on Do6lors moft relie 

Vnto Apothicaries fhops they fend 

Till phificke giues them ouer, they mufl die.- 

And when they fee there is no way but one, 

Fetch a Diuine, God fhal be thought vpon. 

Death T'is true indeede, but weele giue pill and potion 
To fuch as whole on outward meanes depend, 
And come to god for want, more then deuotion. 
As forc'd vnto it at their helples end, 
For ere the do6lor could a drinke prouide 
I flab'd my dart, thus deepe into his fide. 

Death From him thou know'ft we to a lawyer went. 
Time. Tis right, we found him arguing of cafes. 
This is (quoth he) the very lawes intent, 
With that the golden fees came in by braces.* 
Wher's your inftru6lions, and his declaration.^ 
I cannot anfwere thee, till next vacation. 


betwixt Time and Death. 

Come thou in Tearmc thy matter fhal be heard, 
Sir I remember'd you the other day, 
The bill you wot off, I haue now preferd, 
With that ftept I and faid, frend Lawyer flay: 
An execution gainft your life I haue, 
You muft vnto my laile, is cald the Graue. 

Leauing him to the Sexton and the bels. 
We came vnto a Marchant in this towne 
That mighty bags of money ouer-tels. 
Wrapt very orderly in his night gowne, 
Sirra (quoth he) is not the pofte come yetf 
Make fpeed and fumme me vp this bill of debt. 

There can no fhips come yet, He raife my price, 
Oh that the winde would hold but thus a while; 
There comes into my head an odde deuice, 
The very thought thereof doth make me fmile; 
Some fhal be fure to pay if this geare hold, 
The plot is pretious, and muft yeeld me gold. 


A bloudy Battell 

Thus he fat plotting till I fpoild his braine, 
With OJi I feele my felfe exceeding Jicke, 
I gaue his hart a gripe, it grond againe, 
By this, on price of wares he would not fticke 
But lay a gafping, while the bell did towle, 
And there his body lies without a foule. 

Next doore to him, we found a London dame 

Vpon her bed, with finger aking laide, 

And there moft bitterly flie did exclaime 

Againfl the mifdemeanors of her maide, 

Bafe queane (quoth flie) how doft thou make me fret? 

To fee my ruffe of that ilfauord fet. 

Your manners hufwife you haue quite forgot, 
As fure as death ile make your ioynts to bow, 
Fou whore, the poking yron is too hot, 
Durft thou prefume to vex thy miftris now, 
If I were Avell thou queane I would not miffe 
To had my fifts about thine eares ere this, 


betweeiie Time aiid Death. 

Let me not rife, for if I doe ; no more : 

Few wordes are beft, I thinke you will repent it, 

He make you feele your fides this fortnight fore, 

Except Death cro ffe my purpofe and preuent it; 

With that I ftept betweene to part the Fray, 

The Mayd fcapt blowes, and Miftris brake her day. 

A Muskie-Gentle, we did vifit then, 

A Silken Gallant, very curyous fine. 

That kept a fwaggring crew of Seruingmen, 

Whofe rapyer-hylts embrued with gold did fhine, 

And for he would from all contention ceafe. 

He wifely bound his weapons to the Peace. 

One that would fend his challenge to his Foe, 
And braue him out with paper in difgrace. 
But to the fielde, he alwaies fcornd to goe, 
For he kept men, that would fupply the place : 
He would preferue his life, yet fend his Gloue, 
His perfon muft attend on Ladies loue. 

C Well 



A bloudy Battell 

Well this fame figneur with the tender skin, 

That dcdicatcth all his dales and houres 

To dauncing, drunkenneffe, and Vemis finne, 

Neuer refpe6ling Time and Deaths fterne powers 

Was met by me thinking his life fecure, 

I killed the knaue to keepe my hand in vre. 

Where went we then, doeft thou remember Time} 
Yes very well, w^e vifited a Poet, 
That tyrd inuention day and night with rime 
And ftill on Venus feruice did beftow it : 
Death Tis true indeed a Poet was the next, 

With foolifli idle loue extreamely vext. 

Time All that he did endeuour to deuife. 

Was onely Vcims praife, and Cupids power, 
Within his head he had a mint of lyes, 
On truth he neuer fpent, in's life an houre: 
His fi6lions were to feed thofe in their pride. 
Who take delight to heare themfclues belide. 



betweene Time a7td Death, 

For flaunder, women to haue vertues many, 
Admird their beauties, when they lack good faces, 
Say they haue wit at will, not feeing any. 
Tell them their empty minds are full of graces : 
Why then they thinke you loue them paft compare. 
And euery toy they weare becoms them rare. 

This Poet thus a fonneting we found, 

Riming himfelfe euen almoft out of breath, 

Ctipid (quoth he) thy cruell Dart doth wound, 

Oh graunt me loue, or elfe come gentle Death: 

I heard him fay, come gentle death in left ; Death 

And in good earneft graunted his requeft. 

Leaue him a rotting, then we march'd along Time 

Vnto a Godly reuerent graue deuine, 

Whofe faith on CJiriJl was grounded firme and ftrong, 

And all his hope to heauen did he incline ; 

At prayer deuout, we found him on his knees, 

And with thefe words he fpake, his hart agrees. 

C 2 The 


A blotidy Battell 

The wounds that lESVS fuffred for my fmne, 
Are mouthes that cry, O lone him with thy Jiart, 
The thornes that pierced thorow his flefh and skin, 
Are tongues, (pronouncing) Lone is his defart, 
The torturing whips, that did to anguifli moue him, 
Are Ecchoes founding. Wretched Sinner loue him. 

With Peters fmnes in greatneffe mine abound, 
Who by his oathes and curffes CJiriJl denied. 
And with the woman in Adultry found. 
The filthineffe of finne in me doth bide: 
With yiagdalcns in multitudes they be. 
Her feauen Deuils haue infe6led me. 

The fhame of finne vpon my foule doth fall, 
That on the wretched Ptcblicau did light, 
The cruelty of fmne I haue with Paul 
To profecute the holy and vpright; 
And with the Theefe, that all his life did ill, 
Vnto my graue, my fmnes attend me ftill. 



betwixt Time and Death. 

Oh come fweet lefus, for thy feruant corns, 
I doe beleeue, Lord helpe my vnbeHefe: 
My debt of fmnes amount to mighty fums, 
Of Mercies treafure onely thou art chiefe : 
Though fmnes be red as fcarlet, yet I know, 
Thy precious blood can wafh them white as fnow. 

To be diffolued, greatly I defire, 

This world doth paffe, the things thereof are vaine, 

To be with Clirijl, I onely do require. 

And fee the Citty where his Saints do raigne, 

He is my life, Death is a gaine to me. 

With that his foule afcends where Angels be. 

A happy foule, one that had learn'd to die, Death 

And rightly vnderftood his earthly ftate, 

Whofe conflant faith enfor'cd the Deuill fly. 

That ftill affaulteth men with deadly hate. 

For thou know'fl Time how that fame hel-hound ftriues 

About the hower that men yeeld vp their Hues. 

C 3 For 


A bloudy Battell 

For in mans ficknes Satha?i doth conceiue, 
It may be mortall, that difeafe may end-him, 
And therefore no temptation he will leaue, 
That to eternall torment he may fend-him: 
Tis time (faith he) to do my moft endeuor, 
If now I loofe his fowle, tis loft for euer. 

Firft then heele tempt him to impatient mind, 
To grudge and to repine, at Gods corre6tion, 
Whereto with paine and griefe he feemes inclined, 
But finding grace preuenteth that infeftion, 
He feekes to draw him to a pride of hart, 
To thinke himfelfe a man of great defart. 

And one in whome perfe6lion doth abound, 
That conftantly aduerfities can beare, 
For his good workes deferuing to be crownd, 
And that of fin he need not ftand in feare : 
If this cannot his fowle for hell prepare, 
He labors then to driue him to defpaire. 



betwixt Time and Death. 

Compares Gods iudgements and his fins together, 
And bids his confcience looke vpon the law, 
Where damned foules remain, he muft go thither, 
No mercy fuch a fmner euer faw; 
It ftands not with Gods iuftice for to faue-him, 
The Deuils come, and onely he muft haue-him. 

Thus plots that foe, and thus he oft preuailes, 
And doth enlarge his kingdome wondrous thus; 
Millions of fowles go hel-ward Avith thefe gales, 
When men from memory do banifli vs: 
" To count thee precious all men haue great reafon . 
" To thinke on me, is neuer out of feafon. 

Death, it is true but that fame monfter fm, Time. 

That brood of hell, that Deuils eldeft childe. 

Which with the fall oi Adam did begin, 

And all his ofif-fpring odious hath defil'd : 

That Viper of the foule doth ftill appeare. 

To all thofe finners entertaine it heere. 



A blotidy Battell 

Sinne, the defpifing of Gods Maiefty, 
And the contempt of his Eternall power, 
The death of Vertue, Graces enemy, 
Canker of true felicities faire flower. 
The obfcure darkenes of mans vnderflanding, 
Rebell to all the lawes of Gods commanding. 

Sinne, the dire6lor vnto all mifhap, 

The fetters of th' eternall vault of hell, 

The tempters net he vfeth to intrap, 

The price wherewith the Deuils buy and fell, 

The feed of SatJia?i daily by him fowne 

In thofe hard harts which are become his owne. 

Siime, euerlafting poifon, cureleffe killing, 
The imitation of the evill fprites. 
Folly of men, to which the world runs willing, 
Pleafing deftruftion, fil'd with loath'd delights, 
Soules peftilence, from darke infe6lions Den, 
The caufe of all Gods plagues that light on men. 


betweene Time and Death. 

Hath ouer man fuch rule and Empire got, 
And generally on earth beares fuch a fway, 
That ther's not one doth good and fmneth not, 
The righteous falleth feuen times a day: 
This is the caufe the Lyon roares about, 
And heauens narrow way, is hard found out. 

True time." Well, then we went with expedition Death 

(Killing about fome hundred by the way) 

Vnto the manfion of a rare phifition, 

That with my fubie6ls bare a mighty fway, 

Of ficke, and lame, and gowty, ery fort, 

Gaue all of him a wonderfull report. 

Within his hand he held a vrinall. 
Which after he had view'd a little fpace, 
This party (quoth he) very fhortly fhall 
Be perfe6l well, and in a healthy cafe; 
There is no daunger, do as I haue wild. 
Yet that fame perfon I had newly kild. 

D To 

A bloicdy Battell 

To many he gaue notes, what they fliould take, 
Some pill, fome potion, others mufl let blood, 
And diuers compounds fome with fpeed muft make, 
And on his life this phificke Avould do good. 
Quoth I, PJiifitian cure tJiy Jelfc fond man, 
Thou dieft this howre, preuent it if thou can. 

About this time much worke I had to do. 
As wofull London did both feele and fee, 
A dreadfull plague began fix hundred two. 
Which did continue out fix hundred three. 
The bloody bufines I had then in hand. 
Became a terror vnto all the land. 

Deadly deftru6lion was in e'ry ftreet, 

A daily mourning and a daily dying. 

Great vfe of Coffin, and of winding Sheet, 

From empty houfes many hundreds flying: 

Each faculty, profeffion, and degree, 

Tooke counfell with their legs to run from me. 



behueene Time afid Death. 

But how they fped experience can declare, 
How many left their liues vpon the way, 
Poore mortals in my hands are brittle ware, 
Like Vapor, Buble, Flower, wither'd Hay; 
Where can they run, but I am ftill behind-them? 
Where can they Hue fecure, but I will find-them? 

The Cittizens that out of plague time, euer 
Are entertain'd with welcomes in all Townes, 
To fhun like Serpents, each man did endeuor, 
Amongft the rufticke rude vnciuill Clownes, 
The name of Londoner, that very breath, 
Had power to terrific as much as death. 

Let him be friend or kinfman, what he will, 
Maifler, or feruant, husband, or the wife: 
You muft keepe out, faies lobfon with his bill, 
The plagu's about him neighbors on my life: 
Heere is no meat and drinke for horfe or man, 
Starue if thou wilt, or get it where thou can. 

D 2 God 


A bloudy Battell 

God which detefted cruelty feeing this, 

Gaue vs commiffion ouer all the land, 

That flefli and blood might know the plague was his, 

And he had power to ftrike or hold his hand; 

Then we his officers to worke did go, 

And make the Country taft of Citties wo. 

How could they fliun their owne infeflion now? 

That held the Londoners contagious foes. 

What vertue can their worm-wood fmels allow, 

To charme the plague, for comming neare their nofe ? 

Angdlica is but a rotten root, 

Hearbe-grace in fcorne, I trample vnder-foot. 

Vnicorns horn's not worth a marrow-bone, 
Though men efteeme fo precious of the duft, 
Bugell is euen as good as Beazcr ftone, 
If I but fay, Sirrha away you vmji: 
Prepare thy fotile, repent the guilt offm, 
Coffin, andjliecte, attend to take thee in. 


betwixt Thne and Death, 

I wonder what men thinke that daily fee, 
Their friends and kindered carried to the graue, 
How they can count themfekies fecure to be, 
That not an howers time, of life-time haue; 
That find they are but tenants heere at will. 
Yet liue, as they could Hue free-holders ftill. 

Where's old Mcthifelah that long liu'd man ? 

Whers's al the fathers faw fo many dales? 

Their Hues were but the length of Dauids fpan, 

A vapor that moft fodainly decaies : 

Th'are borne, grow ftrong, wax old, fall ficke, and die, 

So other do; and others them fupply. 

Where's that ftrong man that did fo many kill ? 

And admirable things by valour did. 

That carried Afah gates to Hebron hil. 

And rent a Lyon like a tender Kyd : 

Looke in the graue where this great man doth lie, 

There's no ftrength left, to kil a_^filly flie, 



A bloudy Battell 

Wher's that moft rare and comely fliaped prince, 
That would hauc puld his Father from his throne f 
Whofe like no age hath feene for feature fmce, 
Nor any age before his age had known : 
Not a locke left of all his goodly haire, 
Hundreds ago, his fcull was bald, and bare. 

Wher's Hc£lor gone, and Herades become ? 
What newes with Pompey and Achilles now? 
Where marcheth Alexander with his drum. 
To Ccefars fcepter who doth yeeld or bow : 
Where are thefe great and mighty conquering ones, 
Time, fliew an ounce of duft of all their bones. 

Time Death preethy ftay, let this difcourfe ftand by, 
And make me anfwere vnto one requeft. 
Some doubt and difference is twixt thee and I, 
Which to refolue in my conceit were befl, 
And this it is; The world exclaimes on me. 
For diuers a6lions that are done by thee. 



betwixt Time and Death, 

If thou ftab children in their mothers wombe, 

Or kill a king as foone as he is crown'd, 

Or make the bloodie field the Souldiors tombe, 

Or in the Seas caufe thoufands to be drown'd, 

Why prefentlie what will the people fay? 

Their Time was come: thus Time beares blame awaie. 

If this be all, let it not greeue thy hart, 
To heare thy felfe abufed now and then, 
But ile reuenge, I vow it with my dart, 
I marry wilt thou, but I preethy when; 
To foone by many dales ile meet with fome, 
If thou but fay, flrike for their Time is come. 



I thats another matter, now you fpeake : 

By my glaffe all thy tragedies are a6led, 

The prifon of mans foule thou canft not breake, 

With wals of flefh and blood, and bones compa6led ; 

Nor giue the fame enlargement to go free. 

Before my hand, to thy commiffion be. 



A bloudy Battell 

Thou knowft Time is Gods agent in affaires, 

And hath bin fo, euer fince the creation, 

Thou knowft he feateth MonarcJis in their chairs, 

Admitting kings vnto their corronation: 

If long they raigne, Time giues their yeares the length, 

If fhort they rule, Time cutteth off their ftrength. 

The ornaments of heauen, fun, and Moone, 

With al the glittering brauery of ftars, 

Are taught by me, their morning, night, and noone, 

I order them, which elfe diforder mars: 

Their motions, reuolutions, and afpefls. 

Time with his iuft proportion, due direfts. 

Death Why what a bragging and a coile do'ft keepe ? 
Beft take my dart, be Time, be Death and al. 
He into graues, and there go lie and fleepe, 
And anfwere thou when Gods affaires do cal : 
Be Lord of Coffin, Pickaxe, Sheet, and fpade. 
And do my worke, with thofe in ground are laid. 



betweene Time and Death, 

Thou art for kings, and thou doft this and that, 
And without thee, ther's nothing to be done, 
To crowne, depofe, and do I know not what, 
Nay thou art bufie with the Moone and Sunne; 
Thou haft an ore in e'ry bodies boate, 
Vpon my confcience thou begin'ft to dote. 

I haue bin DeatJi almoft fix thoufand yeares. 
Yet neuer heard thee vaunt fo vaine before, 
Thou coun'ft thy felfe my better it appeares. 
But if thou doefl, thy aime is wide a fcore; 
I tell thee Time, thou doeft infence me now. 
Knowing my felfe a better man then thou. 

At leaft thy felfe knowes I am full as good. 
Being Gods fteward, fmnes reward to pay, 
He that denies it I will fee his blood. 
Be he the greateft Monarch Hues this day; 
If he were Ccsfar of the earths whole Globe, 
He make him poorer then the Deuill made lob. 

E The 


A blotidy Battell 

The mony-bag whofe Idols in his chefl, 
Whofe Gods his gold, whofe golds his prifoner, 
Whofe thoughts are euer haunted with vnreft, 
And loues that befb, becomes his murderer: 
I take him fodaine from huge heapes of treafure, 
The flaue was fcraping all his life times leifure. 

Wounds, hart, and blood, that wil not fell his fwearing 
To him would giue him forty pound a yeare, 
That vowes a tale is dull and harfh in hearing, 
Vnleffe by oaths the matter be made cleare : 
Oft when the tempter chiefely doth prouoke-him, 
His mouth being fil'd with bitter oaths, / choake him. 

The fwaggering Ruffian in his heady braules, 
Whofe hand is euer on his ponyard hilt, 
That bloody fraies his recreation cals, 
Chiefely delighted with foule murders guilt: 
Whofe thoughts are onely for the ftab pretence, 
I haue a tricke for him and all his fence. 



betweene Time and Death. 

The quaintly futed Courtier in attyre, 
Whofe lookes are fixt no lower then the sky, 
Is croft by me, in height of his defire. 
And vnder ground I make his carrion lie: 
He fcorn'd the earth, and that I make his bed, 
Wrapt in a rotten fheet, from foot to head. 

And wherefoeuer, or what ere he be, 
For countenance, for credit and condition, 
Dignity, calling, office, or degree, 
Peffant, or prince, patient, or els Phifition: 
Euen from the Crowne and fcepter to the plow, 
I make all looke as I my felfe do now. 

Perhaps thou think'ft becaufe thy beard is gray, 

I owe officious reuerence to thine age, 

And muft beleeue whatfoeuer thou fay. 

Applauding thee chiefe a6lor on earths ftage : 

He neuer do it, Time expecl it not. 

For at my hand ther's nothing to be got. 

E 2 But 


A blottdy Battell 

But pre thee tell me, what is he feares Timet 
Not one vpon my life that doth expe£l thee, 
For all the finful brood oi Adams flime, 
Do euery day, and euery hower negle6l thee: 
To vfe time well, who is not flow and flacke? 
But with their euils, al men loade thy backe. 

Pyrats and theeues take Time to fit their turne, 
Time muft affift them ere they can preuaile, 
The fawning flatterer doth Time fubborne, 
To give him leifure for his lying tale; 
The luftfull Letcher borrowes thee by night, 
And makes Time pandor to his fmnes delight. 

The fcatter good, in Time confumes the wealth, 
That might fufl:aine both him and his fucceffor, 
The drunkard takes his Time to pledge a health 
Till drinke, to wit and fence be an oppreffor; 
Nay not an cuill fince the world begun, 
But Time was acceffary till twas done. 



betwixt Twie and Death. 

Well preethy flander on, ile heare thee out, Time. 

And thy vntruths, with truth I will confute, 

Touching the wronging me, thou goeft about, 

Thou art not able for thy life difpute: 

Death, th'art a lying fellow in this cafe, 

I fcome thee I, for vfmg Time fo bafe. 

What (Father gray-beard, doth your choler rife ? Death 

Can you fo ill digeft to heare your crimes ? 

Why goodman bone-face, with your vaulty eies. 

What i'ft to me if men abufe their Times? Time 

Where leamd your dry and empty pate the skil, 

That Time fhould anfwere for mens doings il. 

Man is ordaind by th'almighty maker, 
To fpend his Time of earthly pilgrims ftate 
So holy, that he proue foule fmnes forfaker 
And with faire vertue finifh out his date.* 
I being the Time and limmit for that vfe, 
My il imployment, is the worlds abufe? 



A bloudy Battell 

What fimple reafon hath thy braine in llore, 
That doft all fence fo vtterly forget ? 
Shal I be charg'd to anfwere finners fcore, 
That neuer paft my word to pay their debt: 
Proue that, and let all that is good deteft me, 
Th'art a leane knaue : Take ivitnes and arejt me. 

Death By my darts point, (I fwore not fo this yeare. 

He fight with thee, next time we meet in field, 
Time Why if thou haft a ftomacke tiy it heere, 
I feare thee not, my fith is newly fteeld : 
And take this warning ere the fray begins, 
Looke to your legs, ile cracke thofe rotten fhins. 

My fhins you whorfon vglie prating flaue, 
Death Sirrha ile keepe you at the point aloofe, 

For dotard know ther's not a bone I haue, 
But tis compof'd of ftufife, full cannon proofe, 
Zaie on my legs an houre by thy glaffe, 
Als one, to hew a pillar made of braffe. 



betwixt Time and Death. 

Peace bragging foole, I laugh thy vaunts to fcorne, Titne. 

Thy tongue incHnes to much vnto thy lying, 

Feare children with thy force but newly borne, 

And terrific the ficke that lie a dying: 

I know the houre when God did firft begin thee. 

Thy mold and making, and how much is in thee. 

Thy office is to murder and to kill, 

Stabbing of men, is folace to thy hart, 

Tho goeft about and carriefl with thee ftil, 

A Spade, and Pickaxe, Hower-glaffe, and Dart: 

With one toole, thou doft giue a cowards wound 

Vnfeene, and with tother turne men vnder ground. 

Thou lookeft like the infide of a tombe, 

All rotten bones, with fmnews bound togither, 

Thy guts are gone, for they lacke belly roome, 

And al thy flefh is lighter then a feather.- 

Thy head is like an empty drie oile iarre. 

Where neather teeth, nor nofe, nor eies there are. 



A bloudy Battell 

From eare to eare thou haft a mouth vnfliut, 
With armes and hands like to a Gardners rake, 
Thy ribs fhew like a leather lerkin cut, 
Thy voice refembles hiffmg of a fnake : 
Thy legs appeare a paire of Crane-ftilts right, 
And al thy formes more vgly then a fprite. 

Thy pi6lure ftands vpon the Ale-houfe wall, 
Not in the credit of an ancient ftory, 
But when the old wiues guefts begin to braule, 
She points, and bids them read Memento mori: 
Looke, looke (faies fhe) what fellow ftandeth there. 
As women do, when crying Babes they feare. 

No memory of worth to thee belongs. 
To call thee famous is condemned error, 
And though fometime th'art baletted in fongs. 
Thy names imploide vnto no vfe but terror. 
Thy companie both rich and poore defie, 
Zoathfome to eare, moft vgly to the eie. 




betweene Time and Death, 

Time, I perceiue thou art difpof'd to raile, 
So am not I, my head is not fo vaine, 
Thy tearmes are very bafe, moft fcuriiy ftale, 
And th'art a teftie old foole, for thy paine : 
What needfl: thou vfe this fpeeches vnto me, 
A man fo hanfome thou wilt neuer be. 

Beft fhapen forme, by natures powerfulneffe, 

And fweeteft face on which loues eies do fawn, 

The chiefeft ftature, praif'd for comlineffe. 

Are but my pifture when the Curtaines drawne : X 

Remoue the veile of flefh and blood away, 

Tis Death's true pi6lure all the world wil fay. 

But what art thou, a foule mifhapen monfter. 
Behind all bald, a locke elle long before, 
With clouen feet, whereby a man may confter, 
Caron from hell hath brought thee late a fhore, 
Which if he did, thy fwiftnes doth declare, 
Thou ranft away and neuer paid his fare. 

F A6lcBons 


A bloudy Battell 

AclcEons feet, (I would thou hads his homes) 

Wing'd Hke an Owle, a Cat hath lent thee eies; 

A fugitiue that neuer backe returnes, 

One that will run with Titans horfe in skies : 

Neuer to be intreated, ftopt, or ftaid, 

For whom repofe and reft was neuer made. 

And doft thou thinke ile pocket vp difgrace, 

Of fuch a paltry rufticke peafant boore, 

Nay rather I defie thee to thy face, 

Thou knowft me honeft, though thou knowft me poor: 

I care for no man, all that Hue feare me, 

A figge for the whole world. A ruJJifor thee. 

Time Well art thou now reueng'd.-* preethy hauc done.'' 
Thou ftriu'ft to haue the laft word I dare fweare it, 

Death Why fliould I not as long as you begun, 

Fie, fie, I am afham'd that any man fliould heare it: 

Time. For were it knowne, we two were at contention, 

Tne world would laugh, and terme it Mad difcention. 



betweene Tivie and Death, 

Giue me thy hand, imbrace, let choler paffe: Death 

For my part I do beare thee no ill-will, 

Take heed (good Death) thy bones will crack my glaffe. Time 

I would be loath to do thee fo much ill,- Death. 

Lay downe thy fith, as I lay downe my dart: 

Shake hands, and fo be friends before we part. 

Where goeft thou now. Marry harke in thine eare : Death 
I haue a Lady prefently to kill.- 
One thats at dice, and doth no daunger feare? 
But haue at al fhe faies, come fet me ftil; 
She is at paffage, paffmg found and wel. 
And little thinketh on the paffmg-bel. 

And then I go to baile an honefl man. 

Lies in the Counter for a little debt, 

Whom's creditor in moft extreames he can 

Doth deale withal, now he is in the net; 

He fweares heele keepe him there this dozen yeare, 

Yet the knaue lies, this night ile fet him cleare. 

F 2 And 


A blotidy Batiell 

And then Igo to fee two fellowes fight, 
(With whome there is no reafon to be had) 
About a cup of wine they dranke laft night, 
One fwore twas good, and tother vowd twas bad ; 
He giue one that, no Chirurgeon's Hke to heale, 
And with the tother let the hangman deale. 

And hundreds more, come Tivic with fpeed along, 
About our bufmes we haue fbood heere now: 
Till Prieft, and Clarke, and Sexton haue the wrong, 
More dead worke for their profit lets alow : 
My dart is dry, ther's no frefli blood thereon. 
We fuffer ficke to ly too long and grone. 

Harke a monjlrous rich fellow a Cittizen. 

Time. Weele take him with vs euen in the way, 
(Preethy be thou a quiet man a while) 
Some hower, by my glaffe he hath to ftay, 
Before the date be come of his exile; 
And then in fuch a hole he fhal be plac'ft. 
He is not like be feene againe in haft. 



betwixt Time and Death, 

The villains rich, exceeding rich indeed, 
And loues a bag of gold moft dearely well, 
His wife is of a proud and dainty breed, 
And for imbrafmg fafhions doth excell : 
She married him for pure loue to his wealth, 
But hath a friend for tother thing by ftealth. 

His children long, as mifers children do. 

To be a fharing, ery months a yeare, 

They hope heele dy, their minds confent thereto, 

And then their gallant humors wil appeare, 

The angels kept in darknes by his might, 

Shal by their power approach and come to light. 

Vintners make welcomes ready for they come. 

Let them not want (I praie) Potato pies, 

And Cheaters with falfe dice looke out for fome, 

No little profit to your fliares will rife : 

But Bawds and whores haue you a fpecial care, 

To fit them penni-worths with your pocky ware. 



A bloudy Battell 

As the oppreffer got it wicked in, 

The prodigal wil fend it vainly out, 

One wickednes requites anothers fin, 

If vengeance haue a plague to bring about. 

For what is got by rapine and by wrong, 

The Deuil wil be doer in't ere long. 

Let them haue Lord-fhips, and be Zords of Towns, 

Let them inioy the world, at wit and wil, 

Zet them bequeath fiue hundred mourning gownes, 

And profper al their daies in doing il : 

Giue backe their goods when life is almoft fpent. 

As ludas when to hange himfelfe he went. 

What of al this, it warrants not from hel.-' 
The wicked getting is not iuftifyed, 
Becaufc the rich difpofeth riches wel. 
Wrong gotten, and wel giuen when he died: 
For tis like him, fteales from anothers ftore, 
And of that coine giues almes vnto the poore. 



betwixt Time and Death, 

The vfurer whom God forbids as plaine, 
Take any intrefl, as the theife from ftealing, 
And yet wil venter foule for mony gaine, 
Opreffmg al that vndergo his dealing, 
Thinks it inough to make an honeft wil, 
How ere he got his goods, that fhal not skil. 

Thus men delude, deceiue, beguile, betray 
Themfelues, their fowles, their hope, their happines; 
Running the common beaten paffage way. 
That leads to hel, the haunt of all diftreffe: 
And like the foolifli Virgins knocke too late. 
When ther's no entrance in at heauens eate. 

One builds a houfe, and titles that his owne, 
Giues it his name, to keep his name in found, 
When prefently a graue with one fquare ftone, 
Wil ferue his bodies turne to ly in ground. 
Ten thoufand pounds his coftly houfe requires, 
A coffin of a crowne's al death defires. 



A bloudy Battell 

Another fals to purchafing of land, 
Heele haue it out of Orchard, field, and wood. 
And onely with his humor it doth ftand, 
To get much in his hand, and do no good : 
This Mole that in the earth is moiling thus, 
With fix foot ground is fatisfied by vs. 

Death No more, away, looke heere my glaffe is out, 
Thou art to tedious Time in telling tales, 
Our bloody bufincffe let vs go about, 
Thoufands are now at point of death, breath failes. 
To worke, to worke, and lay about thee man, 
Let's kil as faft, as for our Hues we can. 

Harke, lijlen Time, I pray giite care, 
Wliat bell is that a tozvlinsr there? 



D I O G I N E S 



Athens I feeke for honeft men; 

But I fhal finde the God knows when. 

He fearch the Citie, where if I can fee 
One honeft man ; he fhal goe with me. 


Printed for Thomas Archer, and are to be folde at his Shop 

in Popes-head Pallace, neere the Royall- 

Exchange. 1607. 


AN odde dayes worke Diogines once made, 
And 'twas to feeke an honeft man he faid. 
Through Athens with a Candle he did goe, 
When people fa we no caufe he fliould doe fo: 
For it was day-hght and the Sunne did fhine; 
Yet he vnto a humour did incHne 
To checke Mens manners with fome od-croffe ieft, 
Whereof he was continually poffeft. 
Full of reproofes where he abufes found; 
And bolde to fpeake his minde, Who euer fround. 
He fpake as free to Alexanders face, 
As if the meaneft Plow-man were in place. 
Twas not mens perfons that he did refpeft ; 
Nor any calling : Vice he durft dete6l. 
Imagine you doe fee him walke the ftreetes, 
And euery one's a knaue, with whome he meetes. 
Note their difcriptions ; which good cenfure craues 
Then judge if he haue caufe to count them knaues, 

Samvell Rowlands. 


D I o G I N E s In his Lanthorn 

Ow fye vpon feeking 

honeft men in knaues fkins, 
I am euen as Aveary as euer 
was Platoes Dogge. Not a 
Streete, Lane nor Alley in 
AtJiciis but I haue trode it, 
and cannot meet a man wor- 
thy the giuing good morowe 
too : why what raflcalles be 
thefe ? haue they banifht honeft men out of the Towne 
quite? Alas poore Vcrtue, what haft thou done to de- 
ferue this contempt? bafe is thy attyre, as thrid-bare 
in thy apparel as m.y Gowne: thy company out of re- 
queft, for thou haft walked fo long alone, that thou art 
euen walked away with thy felfe: ther's no goodnes to 
be found Al's fet vpon villany. Yonder walkes Bri- 
bery, taken for an honeft fubftantiall graue Cittizen, 
I marry is he, pra'y make him one of your Common 

There goes Crueltye and Extortion, put off your 
hattes to him : tis well done, he is one of the principall 
and beft in the parifh, he hath borne all Offices and ne- 
uer did good : a moft abhominable rich fellowe, but 
how the deuill came he by his wealth? Widowes, wi- 
dowes, three or foure olde ruftie golde -begetting wi- 

A 3 dowes 

Diogines Lanthorne. 

dowes haue crown'd him with their wealths, and that 
wicked Mammon is deerer vnto him then his owne 
foule: Nay, if he had fiue thoufand foulcs, he would 
fell them all for fiue thoufand Dukcats of golde. 

Stay, let me fee! what's he? Oh tis Prodigallitie 
and his whore, a Gentleman and a Gentlewoman, 
they are walking towards the fuburbs of a Bawdie- 
houfe for their recreation : yonder rides the Bawde in 
her Coach before, and they two come leyfurcly ( with 
the pox ) behinde, but will all meete together anone to 
make Avorke for the Chirurgio, who will anfwer their 
loofe bodyes with the fquirt. 

Now He affure you though I laugh but fildome, I 
mufl n^edes make merry with yonder Affe : why he is 
trapt for all the world like Alexanders horfe, fuch a 
Feather in's head, fo begarded, and the very fame trot: 
I haue knowne his Father well, he was a moft graue 
Senator (in regarde of his gray beard) and did much 
little good in the Cittie, got wealth, and pylde vp golde 
euen as they pyle vp ftockfifli in IJland, and now his 
Sonne ( the fecond parte of a foole ) has all, all : mary 
what doth he with it? ( ftay, let me fnuffe my Candle 
and He tell you ) euen like one of Siguieiir Scatter- 
goods Polititians he deuides it into partes: A great 
portion for Dyeing, a good fumme for drinking, a par- 
cel for whoring, a moytie for pride, a third for daun- 
cing, fix fhares and a halfe for fwaggering, and all the 
remayner for beggery. Walke along knaue, walke 

Who haue we next comes creeping with the palfey 
in his ioynts, a great leather pouch by his fide as large 
a gammon of Bacon, his long ftockins, and a fide coat 
croffe-bard with veluet to his knees? ftay (light, light) 
let me fee! oh I know the damnd flaue, tis Mounfieur 
Vfiuy, what a leane lanke thin -gut it is: he lookes 
meruailous like a long emptie Cats-fi-:in purffe, I 


Diogines Lanthorne: 

would I had his fkin to make me a Sommer payre of 

O what a bleffednes is it to me, that I neuer came 
into fuch a villaines clutches! What doe's he pray as 
he goes, his chaps walke fo faft? No, no, the rogue is 
ruminating vpon his pawnes, he chawes the Cud in 
contemplation of Bonds and Billes, I dare be fworne 
he neuer champes fo much vpon his dinner or fupper, 
for his paunch cryes out on him, and all the guttes in 
his pudding- houfe rumble and grumble at their flen- 
der alowance. He obiefts the olde prouerb to his belly, 
Many a Sacke is tyed vp before it be full. I would 
I had the dyeting of him fome month with my rootes, 
I would fend him deeper vnder ground then ere they 
grewe: the Canibal fliould neuer feed more vpon poor 
men, & play the Dice-maker with their bones: hang 
him rogue hang him. 

How now thou drunken knaue, canft not fee but 
reele upon me? I would I had bene ware of thee, thou 
fhouldft haue borne me a good bange with my flaffe: 
what a flaue's this, as I line I was almoft downe. 

Looke how his cloake hanges, one fide to his ankles 
and th'other fide to his elbowe : his fteppes take the 
longitude and the latitude, hoyfe, hoyfe: This fellow 
is now ( in his owne conceit ) mightily ftrong, for he 
dares fight with any man : he is exceeding rich, fcornes 
money, and cares not for twenty thoufand pound: he 
is marueilous wife, and tut tel not him, for he knowes 
more the any man whatfoeuer. What's he that dares 
refufe to pledge him ? as fure as Death if he could feele 
or finde his Dagger, ftabbes would be dealt: harke 
how the villaine fweares, there's all his Hofteffe hath 
in pawne for his fcore, yet hee's a paffing good Cufto- 
mer for v^tterance, about a Barrell a day goes downe 
his gutter. So take him in there at the red Lattice, he 
has caft Ancker at the blew Ancker for this day, fill 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

him of the beft, for hee is euen one of the beft gueftes 
that euer tooke vp fodden Avater Avith chalk -ccredite 
on a poft. Out vpon him, out vpon him, He reade his 
Deftinie, dye in a ditch knaue, or end in an Hofpitall 
Rafcall, chufe whether thou wilt. 

How lookes yonder fellow? whats the matter with 
him trow? has a eaten Bul-beefe? there's a lofty flaue 
indeede, hee's in the altitudes : Oh ift you Maifter 
Ambition} I would be glad to fee you hang'd awhile, 
for an old acquaintance: A great man with the Em- 
peror ile affure you, a great man with the Emperor: 
his voice is heard in the Court now, and his Fathers 
voice was wont to be heard in the Cittie: for I haue 
heard him many a time and often crye broomes in -^- 
thens: a good plaine honeft man, and delt much with 
old fliooes : I heard him once tell this proud knaue ( be- 
ing then a Boy ) a good difcourfe of Lijiice out of a 
Broome : Sirra faid he, heere's Birch to corre6le you 
in Child -hood, and when you growe to be a great lub- 
ber, heere's a ftaffe to be-labour you: If that will not 
ferue to amend you, why then heere's euen a With to 
hang you vp: Amen fay I, hee's growing towards it 
apace: afpiring to rife hie, plotting to be mightie: and 
what tooles has a out of the deuils fhop for this worke ? 
Treafon, Trcafo7i he will afcend by Treafon, though 
he climbe the Gallowes for it, and cracke his necke in 
comming downe againe. If I falute him, and put off 
my cap, I would my Lanthorne were in my belly. 
Vertiic fcornes him, I know him not: ftrout along fir- 
ra, ftrout along, for thou haft not long to ftrout it. 

More knaues abroad yet? yonders Bojling & Pre- 
fumption, I hold my life as old as I am ile take his 
Rapier from him with my walking ftaff, he is al found 
and breath; tongue and talk; feares no man, cares for 
no man, beholding to no man: but trie his valour, put 
him to it, fee whats in him, dare him to the proofe, and 


Diogines Lanthorne: 

there's mine emptie fellowe like a water bubble flying 
in the ayre till a puffe cracke him: I neuer knew (fince 
I knew reafon ) a wordie fellow prooue a worthy fel- 
low: a man muft fet his hand to his man-hood and fin- 
ger it, 'twil not be had with wounds and blood, hart 
and nayles, as euery rafcally knaue makes account: 
when two Curres meete, all the while they bark they 
haue no leyfure to bite: Alexander had a bragging 
Soldier that fwore he had kild fine hundred men Avith 
fillips, yet this fellowe fware the peace againft a wo- 
man that had broken his head with his owne dagger: 
and tother day I followed a couple of notorious brag- 
garts into the field, one fware he would imbrewe his 
Rapier hilts in the bowels of his foe, the other vowed 
to make him eate iron and fleele like an EJirige: whe 
they came to the place appoynted. both drew their wea- 
pons, layd them prefently downe, and went to bufifetts 
for a blody nofe, which I feeing, ran to the towne and 
cry'd murder, murder, & fo brought three hundred peo- 
ple togeather to laugh at them, I tould tell many like 
examples of Signieur feather cap and his fellow, but 
that I fpy another knaue cominge, that puts me out. 
Tis, Contention ( nay ile go low enough to the kenel, 
y fhalt not iuftle me for the wall) looke how a flares 
fee how a frownes, he has had a poore man in law 
this three yeare, for bidding his dog Come ont cuc- 
kolds curve, yet if the dogge could fpeake he would 
beare witnes againft his maifter for home worke 
that he hath feene wrought by his myftris in her cha- 
ber to make her hufband night caps of 

Oh flrife is the fom of his defires, tis the folace of his 
fowle, he is neuer well at harts eafe if he be not 
wranglinge with one or other: ile try it by law (fayes 
hee ) the law fhall iudge it : ile come to no agreement 
but law, ile pynch him by law, I haue a hundred poud 
to fpend at law, and all law, law: yet he himfelfe 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

is altogether voyd of equitie: hee'l neither take wrong 
nor doe right: bytes his poore neighbour doggedly by 
the backe, fcornes his Superiour, tramples vpon his 
inferiour, and fo he may be wrangling, cares not with 
whome it be, to keepe his hand in vre. He neuer went 
to bed in charitie in his life, nor neuer wakes without 
meditating fhrewd turnes. Oh he loues wonderfully 
to be feeding on the bread of flrife, and immitates the 
Camels which delight to drink in troubled pooles: well 
he fliall ioyne no neighbour-hood with me for it: my 
Tunne ftands farre inough off from his houfe: I had 
rather haue a Beare to my next neighbour, then fuch a 
brabling rafcall, goe walke a knaue in the horfe-faire, 
I haue nothing to fay to thee but farwel and be hangd, 
and when th'art going that iourney, take all thy fel- 
lowes with thee. 

Well met, or rather ill met Hipocrijie'. Ah thou 
fmooth face villaine with the fawning tongue, art thou 
become a Citizen too? then looke about you plaine fel- 
lowes, you fliall be fure to want no deceite: he hates 
fwearing, fo doe I : tis well doone to hate it, but he 
loues lying, and wil ouer-reach you in a bad bargaine 
or with falfe weight and meafure: Yes indeed, I truly 
will he. H^ele figh and fay ther's no Confcience now- 
adayes, and then makes his owne actions beare wit- 
nes to it : by yea and nay if he can he will deceiue you, 

Looke to his handes, harken not to his tongue, and 
fay I haue giuen you faire warning, For a Philofo- 
pher hath bene coufned by him. I had rather haue it 
faid, Diogines was deceiued, then to heare it repor- 
ted he is a deceiuer. I payde for a better Cap then I 
weare, and my gowne is fcarce worth halfe the money 
it coft me, marry what remedie.'' nothing: I haue 
learn'd by it onely A knacke to krioive a Knaue: and 
while I Hue ile looke better to Yes tntelye, and 
/ indeed: Hipocrifie fliall neuer fell me good wordes 
againc while he Hues: Ile neu'r buye breath more for 



Diogines Lanthorne : 

money. If a Theife fhould meete me going home, and 
take away my purffe, I would fay I met with an ho- 
nefter man then hee that coufon'd me in the buying of 
my Gowne, for the Theife would proue a man of his 
worde, and tell me Avhat I fhould truft to in the pe- 
remptory tearmes of Stand, delincr your Purffe. 

But my Gowne-brother, he promift me good ftuffe 
truly, a great peny- worth indeed, and verily did gull 
me. But let him take leaue of my purffe, hee's a vil- 
laine, an arrant villaine, and I could euen finde in my 
harte to eat his Liuer fry'd with Parfley to morowe 
morning for my breakfaft. 

How now, what's the matter.^ whether goes all 
this hurly burly .^ heer's a clutter indeed. Now I fee, 
now I fee. Confnage the Swaggerer i§ caryed to pri- 
fon : I heare the people fay he hath ftab'd the Confta- 
ble, beate the Watch, broke the Tapflers head, and 
lyen with his Hofteffe. 

Heer's no villaine: pray' fearch his pockets, I tolde 
you afmuch : falfe hart, falfe hand, and falfe dice : what 
crooked tooles are thofe in's tother pocket } pick-locks, 
pick-lockes: This fellowe Hues by his wits, but yet 
longs not to Wits Common wealth: he fweares he 
is a gentleman : I but of what houfe .'' marry Cheaters 
Ordinary: an Ingenious flaue that workes a lining 
out of hard bones, and has it at his fingers ends: eue- 
ry man him is a very rogue and a bafe gull : He 
threatens ftabs and death, with hart, wounds & blood, 
yet a bloody nofe hath made him call for a Chirurgion. 
He fcornes to dwel in a fuite of apparell a weeke : this 
day in fattin, to morow in fackcloath: one d ayll new, 
the next day all feam-rent: now on his backe, anon at 
the brokers: & this by his reckning is a gentlemans 
humour. Sure I cannot deny but it may be fo, but I 
pray' then what humor is the gentlema in .? he is neuer 
( in my opinion ) like to prooue gentlema by the humor. 

B 2 Away 

Diogines Lanthorne. 

Away with him, away with him, make fure worke, 
chayne and kennell him vp in layle, make him a 
knight of the dolorous caftell. 

He wil do better farr tyed vp, then loofe at lyberty, let 
him not play the wandring pilgrim in any cafe, ther's 
no remedy for fuch wilde fellowes but to tame them 
in the dungeon of darkenes: follow him clofe watch- 
men with your halberts, leaft he fhow you a new 
daunce call'd run-awayes galliard. So, fo, by this tyme 
he lyes where hee's like to proue lowfie, if there be not 
fome fpeedy remedy vf'd, with a medecine made of 
hempe feede, to kill his ytche. 

Who haue we next pra'y ? I fhould know him by 
his villanous, fcuruy looks, a makes a wry mouth, & 
has a grinninge countenance, for all the world like 
Detraction, why tis he indeed: a rope flretch him, has 
not the Crowes peckt out his eyes yet? See how hee 
laughs to him felfe, at yonder playne gentlewoman in 
the old faflion, becaufe fhe ha's not the trafli & trum- 
pery of miflris Looje-legges about her. 

Doft thou deride Cyuility knaue? is decency become 
rediculous ? looke vpon thy felfe, thou rafcall, looke 
vpon thy felfe, whom al the wifemen in the world may 
laugh to fcorne indeede. 

Thou haft nothinge in thee, ( if thy infide were tur- 
ned outward) worthy of the leaft commendation, and 
yet fuch villains wil euer be fcoffing ( deriding and de- 
tra6ting, from thofe of the beft fpirrits and w^orthyeft 
endeuours ) learned mens workes, induftrious mens 
trauells, graue mens counfells, famous mens vertues, 
and wife mens artes, Detraclion wil fpit venome at: 
nothing is well done that flowes not from his durty 
Inuention: he has fcoffes for them he knowes not, and 
lefts for thofe he neuer faw, what a world's this ? when 
a foole fhall cenfure a Philofopher ? a doult, an ideot ? 
one that hath wit in's heele & head alike to condemne 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

and depraue natures miracles for wit and wifdome. 

This is he that can mend euerie thing that is ready 
made to his hand, detrafting from the worthines of 
euerie mans work: tis a villaine, a right villaine bred 
and borne, he came not long fmce along my tub-houfe 
and fcoffing at mee, afked why I made it not a tap- 
houfe ? Mary ( quoth 1)1 haue determined fo to doe, 
but I want fuch a Rogue as thou art, to make mee a 
figne of: with that a cal'd me Dogge. Said I, thou 
didft neuer heare me barke, but thou fhalt feele mee 
bite, and fo thru ft my pike-ftaffe through his cheekes, 
that I made his teeth chatter in his head like a viper 
as he is. 

Nay then we fhal neuer haue done: looke where le- 
lofie is, as yellowe as if hee had the yellow laiindice : 
his wife's an honeft woman in my confcience, loyall 
and true in wedlocke, but becaufe hee like a fornica- 
ting rafcall vfes common Curtezans, hee thinkes her 
curtefies and theirs are al alike to euerie man, come 
who will: his eyes followe her feete wherfoeuer fhe 
goes : if any friend falute her, fhee dares not replie, but 
mnft paffe ftrager-like without any fhow of curtefie: 
he fweares fliee's a whore, and himfelf a large horn'd 
cuckold, all be to runne butt with all Cuckolds in the 

Nay hee's growne to fuch out rage, that he is e- 
uen franticke with lealoiifie, fometimes offering to 
lay wagers y no Bull dares encouter with his head, 
and that his homes are more pretious then any Vni- 
corne: the Haberdafher cannot fit him with a Hat 
wide enough: the Barbor cannot trim his fore head 
clofe enough, and yet the pox hath made his beard thin 
enough: he faies he thinkes there's not an honeft wo- 
man in Athens to his knowledge, and the reafon is, 
he is familiar with none but whores. A bawdie houfe 
is for his bodily exercife, and hee cannot liue without 





dnes Lanthorne. 

his letcheiy, he hath whores of all coplexions, whores 
of all fyzes, and whores of all defeafes : and this is the 
caufe that the vilanous fellow d^ems all to be whores. 
But maifters marke the end of him that hath beene 
laide fiue times of the pox : if he be not throughly fren- 
chefied, and well pcpcr'd for his venerie, then wil I for 
feauen yeares eate hay with a horfe: wel He croffe the 
way to tothor fide the ftreete, before hee come too nie 
me, I dare not indure him, tis good fleeping in a found 
Ikinne: I would not be in's coate for Alexanders rich 
gowne, out ftinking knaue out. Hold off thy Cart 
knaue, wilt ouer runne me? thy horfe hath more ho- 
neftie in him then thou, for he auoides mee, and thou 
drawft vpon me. So Villaine fo, curfe the creature 
that gets thy lining, & fee how thou wilt thriue by it. 
Thou blinde knaue Porter, dooft rufh vpon me with 
thy bafket, and then faift by your leane? belike thou 
meanft to iuftell me againe, for thou didft afke no leaue 
the firft time beforehand, what brutifh flaues doe I 
meete with.'' my ftaffe fliall meete with fome of you a- 
non, take thou that knaue, for crying broomes fo loud 
in mine eares, heeres a quoile indeed : your cittie fliuf- 
lings, rumbling, and tumbling, is not for my humor. 
What a filthie throat has that Oyfter wife, I thinke 
twill eccho in my braine-pan this houre. This is the 
raging ftreete of out-cries, ile outwalke it with al the 
fpeede I can. 

Hetherto haue I met with neuer an honeft man, 
well, ile burne out my Candles end, and then make an 
end and get uie home. So, this is good to begin with- 
all, had your ftreete neuer a knaue to enconnter my 
firft entrance but Difcord? Malum Omen, Malum 
Omen, This is he that fets countries and kingdoms 
together by the eares, breedes Cittie mutinies, and 
domefticall contentions, Prince againft Prince, nati- 
on againft nation, kindred, neighbour, friend all at 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

varience, This is he that calles Peace with her palme 
tree, idle hufwife, and foundes defiance through out 
the whole world : you are wrong'd ( faies he ) put not 
vp fuch a vile indignitie, this difgrace no manhood 
can indure, your valour and reputation is in ftate of 
preiudice, tis wounded by fuch a one, and you cannot 
in any wife put it vp, for the whole world takes notice 
of it, and all men will cenfure }'ou. 

This is the Rafcall that made me fall out with 
Plato, call him proud fellow, and trample vppon his 
bed, becaufe it was fomewhat hansomer and better 
deckt then mine. In all his life time, ( and ile affure 
you tis an old, gray, leane, drie, rotten bond villaine) 
did hee neuer fliow cheerefuU countenance but at the 
fight of fome mifchiefe: he would rather byte his tong 
thorow then bid any man good morrow. So fo, now 
it workes, hee's got amongft a crew of fcolding fifh- 
wiues, off goes her head ittire, haue at tothers throate, 
too her green waft- coat, why now it works like waxe. 

Thruft in Cut-purfe, for theres good penni worths to 
be had amongft them, thy trade is like to be quicke by 
and by, cuftomers come apace, make a priuie fearch 
without a Conftable, ile flay no longer with you, a 
rope rid you al. Now fie vp5 thee flouenly knaue, whe 
didft thou wafh thy face.-* Heeres SloatJi right in his 
kinder the hat he weares all day, at euening becomes 
his night -cap: his frieze gowne fconce, wherein he in- 
trenches himfelfe, is at leaft thirtie thoufand ftrong: 
Garter thy hofe beaft, garter thy hofe, or will the pox 
indure no garters t 

This fellowe I remember comming to a Fig-tree, 
beeing fo extreame lazie that hee could not ftretch his 
arme out to gather any, laide himfelfe downe vppon 
his backe, and gaping cried : 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

Siveete Figges drop downe in yeelding wife. 
For Lazie zuill not let me rife. 

This is he that rifeth late, and goes earely to bed, 
vp to eate, and downe to fleepe : fcornes labour, for hee 
is as ftiffe ioynted as the ElapJiant, and rather then 
he would indure halfe an howers labour, hee would 
willingly chufe a whole howres hanging. I know no 
vse in the world for him, except to keep the Citie bread 
from moulding, and the townes liquor from fowring. 

This is he, that lying at eafe vpon his backe, where 
a cart was to paffe, in treated the Carman to draw ea- 
fie ouer him, for he could not rife yet til his lafie fit was 
paft. this is he that could rather be lowfie then endure 
to haue his fhirt wafh'd, and had rather goe to bed in 
hofe and fhooes, then ftoope to pull them off, Hee's fit- 
ted with a wife euen pat of his owne humor, for tother 
day heating broth for her Husbands breakefaft, the 
Cat cride mew in the porredge-pot, wife ( faid he) take 
out poore puffe, alas how came fhee there? with that 
fhe tooke out the Cat by the eare, and ftroking off the 
porredge from her into the pot, they two went louing- 
ly to breakefafb with it. 

A fhame take them both for filthie companions, for 
their broth is abhominable: who! then we fhall neuer 
haue done, heeres hell broke loofe, fwarming together. 
Derifion, hee goes before, and fcoffes euerie man hee 
meetes: dofl laugh at my Lanthorne knaue, becaufe 
I vfe Candle-light by day.? why villaine tis to feeke 
fuch as you'le neucr be, Honeft men. 

Violence he walkes with him, heele doe iniurie to 
his owne Father if he can, al that he weares on's back 
and all that he puts in's belly, is got by oppreffion, 
wrong, and crueltie, he cares not how he get it, fo hee 
get it, nor from whence he rake it, fo he haue it. 

Ingratitude makes one in their confort, an inhu- 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

mane and vnciuill fauadge, if a man fhould doe him a 
thoufand good turnes in a day, he would neuer giue a 
thoufand good wordes in a yeare for them. 

Impatience is another of their fraternity: a raging 
knaue, an vnquiet turbulent rogue: hee'le allow time 
for nothing, al's at a minutes warning that he cals for, 
or hee'le rage, rayle, curffe and fwear, that a wife man 
would not for ten pound be within ten myles of him. 

Who's the other .^ holde vp thy head knaue: Oh tis 
Ditlnes, the moft notorious block-head that euer pift, 
Inflru6le him till your tongue ake, he has no eares for 
you: theres nothing in him but the Affes vertue, thats 
dull melancholy: how lumpifh a lookes.? out rafcalles 
out: Now a murraine take you all, I did neuer make 
a worfe dayes worke in my life then I haue done to 
day: heere's a Cittie well bleft, tis well prouided I 
warrant you. If a man fhould need an honeft mans 
help, where fhould he find him.^ Well farwel Athens, 
I and my Tubbe fcorne thee and thy Cittizens. 

Diogi7tes loft labour. 

JZ} Hilofopher, thy labour is in vaine, 
•*- Put out thy Candle, get thee home againe, 
If company of honeft men thou lacke. 
They are fo fcarce, thou muft alone goe backe. 
But if thou pleafe to take fome knaues along, 
Giue but a becke, and ftore will flocke and throng. 
He that did vomit out his houfe and land, 
Euen with a wincke, will ready come to hand. 
And he of whome thou didfl ten fhillings craue, 
As thinking nere againe his almes to haue 

C Becaufe 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

Becaufe he was a prodigall, in wafte, 

And to vndoe him-felfe made wondrous hafle. 

If thou haft roome to ftooe him in thy Tunne, 

He will be ready both to goe and runne. 

Or thofe fame drunken Fidlers, thou didft finde 

A tuning wood, when they them-felues were bhnde, 

Whome thou didft with thy ftaffe belabour well: 

They'le fmg about the Tub where thou doft dwell. 

All thofe that were prefented to thy fight, 

When thou fought'ft honeft men by Candle-light, 

Make a ftep backe, they in the Cittie bee, 

With many hundreds which thou didft not fee. 

Houfes of rafcalles, fhops euen full of knaues, 

Tauerne and Ale-houfe fild with drunken flaues. 

Your Ordinaries and your common -Innes 

Are whole -fale ware -houfes of common fmnes. 

Into a bawdy houfe thou didft not looke, 

Nor any notice of their caperings tooke. ( ftraps 

Bawds with their Puncks, and Padners with their 

Whores with their feathers in their veluet caps. 

Thofe Sallamanders that doe bathe in fier, 

And make a trade of burning lufts defire. 

That doe falute them whome they entertaine, 

With A pox take you till zvc mecte agaiue. 

Nor thofe which daily, Nouices entice. 

To lend them money vpon cheating Dice. 

And in the Bowling-alleys rooke with betting, 

By three, and foure to one, moft bafely getting. 

All thefe vnfeene, appeare not to thy face. 

With many a Cut-purffe in the market place. 

That fearches pockets being filuer lynde. 

If Counterfets about men he can finde. 

And hath Commiffion for it fo to deale 

Vnder the hang -mans warrant, hand, & feale. 



Diogines Lanthorne: 

Innumerable fuch I could repeat, 
That vfe the craft of Coney -catch and cheat, 
The Citties vermin, worffe then Rats and Mice, 
But leaue the aclors, to reward of vice : 
He that reproues it, fhowes a deteftation, 
He that corrects it, workes a reformation. 
Who doe more wrongs and iniurj^es abide 
Then honeft men that are beft quallifide ? 
They that doe offer leafl abufe to any, 
Muft be prepared for enduring many. 
Butheer's the comfort that the Vertuous finde : 
Their Hell is firft, their Heauen is behinde. 

Diogines M orra 1 1 s. 

yj Cocke ftood crowing proud, 
•^ ■'■ Faft by a riuer fide : 
A Goofe in water hyft at him 
And did him much deride: 
The Cocke in choler grew, 
vowing by him that made him, 
That he would fight with that bafe Goofe 
Though all his Hennes diffwade him. 
Come but afhore ( quoth he ) 
White lyuer, if thou dare, 
And thou fhalt fee a bloody day, 
Thy throat fhall foone be bare. 
Bafe craven ( faid the Goofe ) 
I fcorne to beare the minde 
To come afhore, amongft a crewe 
Of fcraping donghill kinde : 
Thy Hennes will backe thee there, 
Come hether chaunting flaue: 

C 2 And 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

And in the water hand to hand, 
A Combat we will haue. 
H6er's none to interprete, 
I challenge thee come heere: 
If there be valour in thy combe 
Why let it now appeere. 
Enter thy watery field. 
He fpoyle thy Crowing quite: 
Why doft not come? oh now I fee 
Thou haft no hart to fight. 
With that the Cocke replide, 
There was no want in him : 
But fure the water was fo bad, 
It would not let him fwim. 


/T happens akvayes t/itcs 
When Cowards doe contend: 
WitJi ivi'angling ivordes they doe begin 
And witJi tJiofe tveapons end. 
Nothing hut vaunts are vf>d, 
Till tryall JJiould be made: 
A nd tvhcn they come to a6lion 
Each of other are affraide. 
TJicn for to keep skinnes ivhole, 
It is a common vfe: 
To enter in fonie drunken league, 
Or make a coivards fcufe. 

A great 

Diogines Lanthorne: 

/I Great affembly met of Mice, 
•^ ■'■ Who with them-fekies did take aduice 
What plot by policye to fhape, 
How they the bloody Cats might fcape. 
At length, a graue and auncient Moufe 
( Belike the wifeft in the houfe ) 
Gaue Counfaile ( which they all lik'd well ) 
That eu'ry Cat fhould weare a Bell : 
For fo ( quoth he ) we fliall them heare, 
And flye the daunger which we feare. 
If we but heare a Bell to ting 
At eating Cheefe, or any thing, 
When we are bufie with the nippe, 
Into a hole we fbraite may fkippe. 
This aboue all they lyked beft : 
But quoth one Moufe vnto the reft, 
■ Which of vs all dare be fo flout, 
To hang the Belles, Cats neckes about, 
If heere be any, let him fpeake: 
Then all reply'd, we are too weake. 
The flouteft Moufe, and talleft Rat, 
Do tremble at a grim-fac'd Cat. 


'V ^ Hus fares it with the weake, 

-^ WJiome mighty men doe ivrong: 
They by complaint may iviJJi redreffe, 
But none of force fo Jlrong 
To worke their owne content: 
For eiiery one doth feare, 
Where cruelty doth make abode 
To come iti prefejice there. 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

THe Owle being weary of the night 
Would progreffe in the Sunne, 
To fee the Httle Birds delight, 
And what by them was done. 
But comming to a ftately groue, 
Adorn'd with gallant greene, 
Where yeares proud fea, Summer ftroue 
Moft beautious to be f(6ene. 
He lights no fooner on a tree 
That Summers lyuerie weares: 
But all the little Birds that be 
Ware flock'd about his eares. 
Such wondring and fuch noyfe they kept, 
Such chirping, and fuch peeping: 
The Owle for anger could haue wept, 
Had not fhame hindred weeping. 
At length he made a folemne vow 
And thus vnto them fpake : 
You haue your time of pleafure now 
An Owle of me to make, 
But ere to morowe light appeere 
In dawning of the Eafl : 
Fine hundreth of you that are heere 
I will difpatch at leaft : 
If that I crufli you not moft rare, 
Why then loue let me dye: 
A Tittimoiife I will not fpare, 
Nor the leaft Wren doth flye. 
And fo at night when all was hufti, 
The Owle with furious minde, 
Did fearch and prye in eu'ry bufli 
With fight when they were blinde. 
He rent their flefh and bones did breake, 
Their feathers flewe in th' aire: 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

And cruelly with bloody beake 
Thofe little creatures teare. 
Now am I well reueng'd ( quoth he ) 
For that which you haue done : 
And quited all my wrongs by Moone, 
Were offred in the Sunne. 


f^A injl mightie one, the zveake of Jire)igth 

^^ May not them-fehies oppofe: 

For if they doe, tzvill prone at length, 

To wall the ^veakefl goes. 

The little fJirnbs fnnfl not contend 

Againfl the taller Trees, 

Nor meaner forte feeke to offerid 

Their betters in degrees. 

For though amongfl their ozune conforts. 

Super iours they deride: 

A nd wrong them much by falfe reports, 

At length Time turnes the Tide. 

There comes a change, the wils they wrought 

Infelfe conceit thought good: 

May be in thend too deerly bought 

Euen with the price of blood. 

ACobler kept a fcuruye Crowe, 
A Bird of bafeft kinde, 
And paines inough he did beftowe 
To worke her to his minde. 
At length he taught her very well 
To fpeake out very lowde : 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

God fane the King, and troth to tel, 

The Cobler then grew prowde. 

She was too good to hop about 

Vpon his Olde-fhooe ftall: 

But he vnto the Court would ftrout 

His Bird fliould put downe all 

Their paynted Parrats, So he went 

To Ccefar with lacke-daivc, 

And faid to him, he did prefent 

Beft Bird that ere he fawe. 

The Monarch gracious minde did fhowe 

For Coblers poore good will : 

And made a Courtier of the Crowe, 

Where he remaind, vntill 

He ftanding in a windowe, fpy'd 

His fellowes flyc along: 

And knew the language which they cry'd, 

Was his ovvne mother fong, 

Away goes he the way they went, 

And altogether flye, 

A poore dead Horfe to teare and rent 

That in a ditch did lye. 

When they had fhar'd him to the bone 

Not a Crowes mouthful left: 

To a Corne- field they flye each -one 

And there they fall to theft. 

This life the Coblers Crowe did chufe, 

Pick's lining out of ftrawe : 

And Courtly dyet did refufe 

Euen like a fooHfli Dawe. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

T T EE that from bafenes doth deriiie, 
•*■ -^ The roote of his difcent : 
And by preferment cliaimce to thrme 
The way that lack -daw zvent: 
Whether in court or common wealth. 
In Cittie, or in towne, 
How ere he pledge good Fortunes health, 
Heele line aiid dye a Clozune, 
Daiues, will be dawes, though gradd in court 
Crowes will to carrion flill. 
Like ener vnto like refort, 
The bad embrace the ill, 
And though euenfrom a Coblers fiall, 
He pur chafe land, what then. 
With coblers heele conuerfe with- all. 
Rather then better men. 

THe Lyon, in a humour once, 
As with his pleafure flood, 
Commaunded that on paine of death, 
Home beafts fhould voide the wood, 
Not any one to tarry there, 
That had an armed head. 
This was no fooner publifh'd forth 
But many hundreds fled 
The Hart, the Bucke, the Vnicorne, 
Ram, Bull, and Goate confent 
With haft, poft-hafh to run away 
Their daungers to preuent. 




Diogines Lanthorne. 

With this fame crew, of horned kinde 

That were perplexed fo 

A beaft conforts, vpon whofe head, 

Only a Wenn did grow. 

The Fox met him, and faid thou foole, 

Why whether doeft thou run? 

Marry ( quoth he ) to faue my life 

Hear'ft thou not what is done? 

Home creatures all haue banifhment 

And muft auoide the place, 

For they are charg'd vpon their Hues, 

Euen by the Lyons grace, 

Trew { faid the Foxe ) I know it well 

But what is that to thee ? 

Thou haft no home, thy wen is flefh, 

T'is euident to fee. 

I graunt ( quoth he ) t'is fo ind^ede. 

Yet nere-theleffe, He fly. 

For if t be taken for a home 

Fray in what cafe am I ? 

Sure ( faid the Fox ) it's wifely done 

I blame thee not in this, 

For many wrongs are dayly wrought, 

By taking thinges amiffe. 


T/fT' Ife-men will eiier doubt the worjl, 

In what they take in hattd, 
And feeke that free from allfnfpeSl, 
They may fecurely ftand, 
Remouing euery leafi offence , 
That may a daimger breed. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

For when a man is in tJic pit, 

It is to late take heede 

If mighty men doe cenfiire wrong, 

Hozv Jltall the weake rcfijl? 

It is in vaine contend zuith him 

That can doe what he lijl, 

The bejl and mojl rcpofed life, 

That any man can finde, 

Is this; to keepe his confcience free 

From fpotted guilty minde. 

>«^Sauage creature chaunc'd to come, 
,Z~l Where ciuill peopled welt 
Whom they did kindely entertayne, 
And curteous with him delt. 
They fed him with their choyceft fare 
To make his welcome knowne, 
And diuers wayes, their humane loue 
Was to the wilde man fhowne. 
At length ( the weather being colde ) 
One of them blew his nayles, 
The Sauage afk'd why he did fo ? 
And what his fingers ayles? 
Marry ( quoth he ) I make them warme, 
That are both colde and numme, 
And fo they fet them downe to boord, 
For fupper time was come. 
The man that blew his nayles before, 
Vpon his broth did blow : 
Friend, fayes the Sanage what meanes this, 
I pree thee let me know? 
My broth ( faid he ) is ouer hot. 
And I doe coole it thus : 

D 2 Fare- 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

Farewell ( quoth he ) this deede of thine 

For euer parteth vs, 

Haft thou a breath blowes hot and colde, 

Euen at thy wifh and will? 

I am not for thy company, 

Pray keepe thy fupper ftill 

And heate thy hands, and coole thy broth 

As I haue feene thee doo, 

Such double dealers as thy felfe, 

I haue no minde vnto, 

But will retire vnto the woods. 

Where I to-fore haue bin, 

Refoluing euery double tongue 

Hath hollow hart within. 


/t Hcedefidl care wee ought to haue, 
•^^^- When zuc doe f rends ele6l 
The pleafeing gejlure and good ivordes 
Wee arc not to refpcfl, 
For curicous cariage oftentimes 
May hane an ill intent: 
And gj-at ions wordes may gracelejfe prone, 
Without the harts confent. 
Let all auoyde a double tongue 
For in it thers no trujl, 
And baniJJifuch the company, 
Of honcji men meane iufl: 
A counterfeits focietie 
Is ncuer free from daunger 
And that man Hues mofl Jiappy life, 
Can Hue to fuel i a flraunger. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

A /"A /"Hen winters rage, and cruell ftormes, 

Of euery pleafant tree, 
Had made the boughs ftarke naked all, 
As bare, as bare might be, 
And not a flower left in field, 
Nor greene on bufli or brier: 
But all was rob'd in pitteous plight, 
Of Sommers rich attire. 
The Graffe-hopper in great diftreffe, 
Vnto the Ant did come 
And faid deere friend I pine for foode, 
I prethee giue me fome. 
Thou art not in extreames with me, 
I know thy euer care 
For winters want, and hard diftreffe 
In Sommer doth prepare, 
Know'ft thou my care, replyd the Ant} 
And doeft thou like it well? 
Wherefore prouid'ft not thou the like? 
Pray thee Graffe-liopper tell ? 
Marry ( faid he ) the Sommer time 
I pleafantly doe paffe. 
And fmg it ont moft merily. 
In the delightfull graffe, 
I take no care for time to come. 
My minde is on my fong, 
I thinke the glorious funne-ihine dayes 
Are euerlafting long. 
When thou art hording vp thy foode, 
Againft thefe hungry dayes 
Inclined vnto prouidence, 
Pleafure I onely praife. 
This is the caufe I come to thee, 
To help me with thy ftore. 

D 3 Thou 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

Thou art deceiu'd friend faid the Ant, 
I labour'd not therefore. 
T'was not for you I did prouide, 
With tedious toyle-fome paynes : 
But that my felfe of labours paft 
Might haue the future gaynes. 
Such idle ones muft buy their wit, 
T'is beft when deerely bought : 
And note this leffon to your fhame, 
Which by the Ant is taught, 
If Somnier be your fmging time, 
When you doe merry mako : 
Let Winter be your weeping time, 
When you muft pennance take. 


JKlEglccl not time, for pretions Time, 
•^ ^ Is not at thy com^nmmd, 
Bnt in thy yonth and able Jirength, 
Giue pronidence thy hand. 
Repofe not truji in others helpe, 
For when miffortun's fall, 
Thou inayfl complaine and pine in wajit, 
But friends ivill vanifJi all. 
Thefle lieape reproof es vpon thy head, 
A nd tell thy follies paft: 
And all thy a6les of negligence, 
Euen in thy teeth will cafi: 
Thon mighffl haue got, thou might' fl haue gain' d, 
And lined like a man: 
Thus will they fpeake filling thy foule, 
With extreame pajjion than: 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

Preuent this fooliJJi after ivit, 
That comes when fis to late: 
And trnjl 7iot onermiicJi to f rends, 
To Jiclpe thy hard ejiate. 
Make youth the Sonimer of thy life, 
And therein loyter not: 
And t hi) ike the Winter of aide age, 
Willfpend what Sommer got. 

/I Luftie begger that was blind, 
-^ -* But very ftrong of limbe: 
Agreed with one was lame of legges, 
That he would carry him. 
And tother was to guide the way, 
( For he had perfe6l fight : ) 
Vpon condition, all they got, 
Should ftill be fhar'd at night. 
So as they chaunc'd to paffe along, 
The Cripple that had eyes, 
Sitting vpon the blind mans backe. 
On ground an Oyfter fpyes. 
Stoope take that Oyfter vp ( quoth he ) 
Which at thy feete lyes there : 
And fo he did, and put it in. 
The fcripp which he did weare. 
But going on a little way, 
Sayes cripple, to the blinde: 
Giue me the Oyfter thou tookft vp, 
I haue thereto a mynde. 
Not fo faid tother by your leaue. 
In vaine you do intreate it: 
For fure I keepe it for my felfe, 
And doe intend to eate-it, 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

He haue it fir the Cripple fwore, 

Who fpide it, thou or I ? 

If that I had not feene, and fpoke 

Thou wouldfl haue paffed by. 

It is no matter faid the blind 

Thou know'fl it might haue lyen, 

Had I not ftoopt and tooke it vp 

Therefore it fhall be mine. 

And fo they hotly fell to wordes, 

And out in choller brake 

With thou lame rogue, and thou blind knaue. 

Not caring what they fpake. 

At length it happen'd one came by 

And heard them thus contend, 

And did entreat them, both that he, 

Might this their difcord end. 

They yeild, and fay it fhall be fo. 

Then he Inquiring all. 

Did heare their league, and how about 

An Oyfler they did brail. 

Said he, my mayfters let me f(6e 

This Oyfber makes fuch ftrife, 

The blindman forthwith gaue it him 

Who prefent drew his knife, 

And ope'ning it, eate vp the fame, 

Giuing them each a fliell 

And faid good fellowes now be freinds, 

I haue your fifli. Farewell. 

The beggers both deluded thus, 

At their owne folly fmilde, 

And faid one fubtill crafty knaue, 

Had two poore fooles beguilde. 

For v»j v\t5 c«>L<t-fD v^t l.irTi,fe Y-vt^-^-^ 


Diogines Lanthorne. 


J/'T/'Hen men for trifles ivill contend, 

And vainely dif agree: 
That oftefor nothing friend and friend, 
At daggers draxving be. 
When no difcretion there is vfUe, 
To qiialifie offence: 
Bnt reafon is by will abufd, 
And anger doth incenfc. 
When fonie in fury feeke their wifh, 
Andfome in mallice fzvels : 
Perhaps fome Laivyer takes the Fifli, 
And leaiies his clyent JJiels. 
Then when their folly once appear es, 
They oner late coviplayne: 
And tuiflt the wit of fore -gone y cares, 
Were noiv to buy againe. 

T/T/'\thm a groue, a gallant groue, 

That wore greene Sommers fute, 
An Oxe, an Affe, an Ape, a Fox, 
Each other kinde falute. 
And louingly like friends embrace, 
And much good manners vfe: 
At length fayes th' Oxe, vnto the Affe, 
I pray thee friend what newes? 
The Affe look'd fad, and thus reply'd, 
No newes at all quoth he : 
But I grow euer difcontent, 
When I doe meete with thee. 

E The 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

The Oxe look'd ftrange, and flepping back, 

Quoth he deere neighbour Affe: 

Haue I wrong'd thee in all my life, 

MouthfuU of Hay or Graffe? 

Affure thy felfe if that I had, 

T'would greeue me very much : 

No kinde bedfellow faid the Affe, 

My meaning is not fuch. 

On Jupiter I doe complayne, 

T'is he wrongs me alone : 

In arming thee with thofe large homes. 

And I poore wretch haue none. 

Thou wearft two weapons on thy head, 

Thy body to defend : 

Againft the ftouteft dogge that barkes, 

Thou boldly dar'ft contend. 

When I haue nothing but my fkinne, 

With two long foolifh eares, 

And not the bafeft Goofe that Hues, 

]\Iy hate or fury feares. 

This makes me fad and dull, and flow, 

And of a heauy pace : 

When eu'ry fcuruy fhepheards curr, 

Doth braue me to my face. 

Sure quoth the Ape, as thou art gr^eu'd, 

So I hard dealing finde : 

Looke on the Fox, and looke on me, 

Pray view vs well behinde. 

And thou wilt fweare, I know thou wilt. 

Except thy eye-fight fayles: 

That Nature lack'd a payre of eyes. 

When file made both our tayles. 

I wonder what her reafon was, 

To alter thus our fliapes: 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

Tiler's not a Fox, but hath a tayle, 

Would ferue a dozen Apes. 

Yet we thou feeft goe bare-arfe all, 

For each man to deride : 

I tell thee brother Affe I blufli, 

To fee mine owne, back e- fide. 

I muft endure a thoufand lefts, 

A thoufand fcoffes and fcornes : 

Nature deales bad with me for tayle, 

And hard with thee for homes. 

With this the ground began to fbirr, 

And forth a little hole, 

A creeping foure legg'd creature came, 

A thing is call'd a Mole. 

Quoth he my mayfters I haue heard, 

What faults you two doe finde : 

B'out Tayle and Homes, pray looke on me. 

By Nature formed blinde. 

You haue no caufe thus to complaine, 

Of your, and your defe6l. 

Nor vfe dame Nature hard with wordes. 

If me doe you refpe6l. 

The things for which you both complaine, 

Are vnto me deni'de: 

And that with patience I endure. 

And more, am blind befide. 


JJ/'Ee oiigJit complaine, repine and grndge 

At our dijlike ejlate: 
And deeme onrf clues, ( our fe lues not pleafd ) 
To be vnfortunate. 

E 2 Now 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

None marck'd zvitJi more cxtreame then wee^ 
None plnng'd inforrowfo: 
When not by thonfand parts of ivant, 
Our neighbours grief cs ive knoio. 
Mofl nieft that Jiaiie fufficiencie, 
To feme for natures neede: 
Doe wrong the God of Nature, 
And vngratefidly proceede. 
They looke on others greater giftes, 
And enuioufly complaine: 
When thoufands wanting ivhat they hatie, 
Contended doe remaine. 

'V ^H' Aftrononicr by night did Avalke, 

■^ ( He and his Globe together:) 
Hauing great bufines with the ftarres, 
About the next yeares weather 
He did examine all the fky, 
For tempefts, winde, and raine : 
And what difeafes were to come, 
The plannets told him plaine. 
The difpofition of the Spring, 
The flate of Sommer tide: 
The Harueft fruit, and Winters froft, 
Moft plainely he efpide. 
He did conferr with lupiter, 
Saturne and all the Seauen: 
And grew exceeding bufie, with 
Twelue houfes of the heauen. 
But while with ftaring eyes he lookes, 
What newes the ftarres could tell : 
Vpan the fodaine downc he comes, 
Headlong into a well. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

Helpe helpe, he calls or elfe I drowne, 

Oh helpe, he flill did cry: 

Vntill it chaunc'd fome paffengers, 

Came very early by. 

And hearing him, did helpe him out, 

In a drown'd moufes cafe: 

Then queftion'd with him how he came, 

In that fame colde wet place. 

Marry ( quoth he ) I look'd on hie, 

Not thinking of the ground : 

And tumbled in this fcuruy Well, 

Where I had like bin drownd. 

Which when they heard and knew his art 

They fmyling faid, friend ftraunger.-* 

Wilt thou fore -tell thinges are to come. 

And knowefl not prefent daunger. 

Haft thou an eye for heauen, and 

For earth fo little wit : 

That while thou gazeft after ftarres, 

To tumble in a pit.-* 

Wilt thou tell ( looking ore, thy head ) 

What weather it will be.'' 

And deadly daunger at thy foote. 

Thou haft no eyes to fee.'' 

We giue no credit to thy Art, 

Nor doe efteeme thee wife: 

To tumble headlong in a Well, 

With gazing in the fkyes. 




Any ivith this AJlronomer, 
Great knowledge will pretend: 

E 3 Thofe 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

Thofe giftes tJiey Jiaue, tlicir JiaugJity pride. 
Will to the skyes commend. 
Their lookes mnjl be a/piring, 
( For ambition ay vies on hye ) 
Fortims adiianncenients make them dreame, 
Of Cajlcls in the sky. 
But zvhile beivitching vanity, 
Deludes them zvith renoivne: 
A fodaine alteration, zvith 
A vengeance pulles them dozvne. 
Afid then the vieanejl fort of men, 
Whom they doe abie6l call: 
Will fland in fcorne, and point them ont, 
And cenfure of their fall. 

X^Reat Alexander came to fee 
^^ My manfion, being a Tun : 
And ftood dire6lly oppofite, 
Betweene me, and the Sun. 
Morrow ( quoth he ) Philofopher, 
I yeild thee time of day: 
Marry ( faid I ) then Emperour, 
I preethee fland away. 
For thou dcpriueft me of that, 
Thy powre hath not to giue : 
Nor all thy mighty fellow Kings, 
That on earth's Foote-ball Hue. 
Stand backe I fay, and rob me not, 
To wrong me in my right : 
The Sunne would fhine vpon me, 
But thou tak'ft away his light. 
With this he ftept afidc from me, 
And fmiling did entreat: 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

That I would be a Courtier, 

For he liked my conceit. 

He haue thy houfe brought nie my Court, 

I like thy vaine fo well: 

A neighbour very neere to me, 

I meane to haue thee dwell. 

If thou beftow that paine ( quoth I ) 

Pray when the worke is don : 

Remoue thy Court, and carry that, 

A good way from my Tun. 

I care not for thy neighbour-hood, 

Thy treafure, trafh I hold: 

I doe efteeme my Lanterne home, 

Af much as all thy gold. 

The coftlyeft cheere that earth affords, 

( Take Sea and Ayre to boote ) 

I make farre leffe account thereof, 

Then of a Carret-roote. 

For all the robes vpon thy backe. 

So coftly, rich, and ftraunge : (weare 

This plaine poore gowne, thou feeft me 

Thred-bare, I will not chaunge. 

For all the Pearle and pretious Stones, 

That is at thy command : 

I will not giue this little Booke, 

That heere is in my hand. 

For all the citties, countries, townes. 

And Kingdomes thou haft got : 

I will not giue this empty Tun, 

For I regard them not. 

Nay if thou would'dft exchaunge thy crowne 

For this fame Cap I weare : 

Or giue thy Scepter for my Staffe, 

I would not do't I fweare. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

Doeft {6e this tubb? I tell thee man, 

It is my common wealth: 

Doeft fee yon water? tis the Wine? 

Doth keepe me found in health. 

Doeft fee thefe rootes that grow about, 

The place of my abode? 

Thefe are the dainties which I eate, 

My back'd, my rofte, my fod. 

Doeft fee my fmiple three -foote ftoole? 

It is my chayre of ftate : 

Doeft fee my poore plaine woodden difli? 

It is my filuer plate : 

Do'ft fee my Wardrope? then beholde 

This patched feame-rent gowne: 

Doeft fee you mat and bull-ruflies? 

Why th'are m}^ bed of downe. 

Thou count'ft me poore and beggerly, 

Alas good carefull King: 

When thou art often fighing fad, 

I cheerefull fit and fmg. 

Content dwels not in Pallaces, 

And Courts of mighty men: 

For if it did, affure thy felfe, 

I would turne Courtier then. 

No Alcxajidcr th'art decciu'd. 

To cenfure of me fo : 

That I my fweet contented life, 

For troubles will forgo: 

Of a repofed life tis I, 

Can make a iuft report : 

That haue more vertues in my Tun, 

Then is in all thy Court. 

For what yeilds that but vanitie. 

Ambition, Enuie, pride : 



Diogines Lanthorne: 

Opprefllon, wronges and cruelty, 
Nay euery thing befide. 
Thefe are not for my company, 
He rather dwell thus odde: 
Who-eiier walkes aniongji Jliarp thorn es. 
Had need to goe well Jliodde. 
On mighty men I cannot fawne, 
Let Flat'ry crouch and creep: 
The world is nought, and that man's wife 
Leaft League with it doth keep. 
A Crowne is heauy wearing, King 
It makes thy head to ake: 
Great Alexander, great accounts 
Thy greatnes hath to make. 
Who feeketh reft, and for the fame 
Doth to thy Court repayre : 
Is wife like him that in an Egge 
Doth feeke to finde a Hare. 
If thou hadft all the world thine owne. 
That world would not fuffice: 
Thou art an Eagle, mighty man, 
And Eagles catch no Flyes. 
I like thee for thy pacience well. 
Which thou doeft fhowe, to heare me : 
He teach thee fomwhat for thy paynes, 
Drawe but a little neare me: 
Some honeft Prouerbs that I haue, 
Vpon thee He beftowe: 
Thou didft not come fo wife to me 
As thou art like to goe. 

He that performes not what he ought 
But doth the fame neglefl : 
Let him be fure not to receiue 
The thing he doth expecl. 

F When 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

When oncy the tall and loftye Tree 
Vnto the ground doth fall : 
Why euery Peffant hath an Axe 
To hewe his boughes withall. 

He that for vertue merrits well 
And yet doth nothing clayme: 
A double kinde of recompence 
Deferueth for the fame. 

Acquaint me but with whom thou goeft 
And thy companions tell, 
I will refolue thee what thou doeft, 
Whether ill done or well. 

He knows enough that knoweth nought 
If he can filence keepe: 
The Tongue oft makes the Hart to figh, 
The Eyes to wayle and weepe. 

He takes the beft and choyfeft courfe 
Of any men doth Hue: 
That takes good counfel, when his freind 
Doth that rich lewell giue. 

Good horfe and bad, the Ryder fayes, 
Muft both of them haue Spurres: 
And he is fure to rife with Fleaes 
That lyes to fleepe with Curres. 

He that more kindnes fheweth thee 
Then thou art vf'd vnto, 
Eyther already hath dcceiu'd 
Or fliortly meanes to do. 



Diogines Lanthorne: 

Birds of a feather and a kinde, 
Will ftill together flocke : 
He need be very flraight him-felfe 
That doth the crooked mocke. 

I haue obferued diuers times 
Of all fortes Olde and Young : 
That he which hath the leffer hart 
Hath ftill the bigger tongue. 

He that's a bad and wickedman 
Appeering good to th'eye : 
May doe thee many thoufand wronges 
Which thou canft neuer fpye. 

In prefent want, deferre not him 
Which doth thy help require: 
The water that is farre off fetch'd 
Quencheth not neyghbours fire. 

He that hath money at his will, 
Meate, Drincke, and leyfure takes. 
But he that lackes, muft mend his pace, 
Neede a good foot -man makes. 

He that the office of a friend 
Vprightly doth refpe6l : 
Muft firmly loue his friend profeft 
With faulte, and his defeft. 

He that enjoyes a white Horfe, and 
A fayre and dainty wife : 
Muft needes finde often caufe, by each 
Of difcontent and ftrife. 




Diogines Lanthorne. 

Chufe thy companyons of the good, 
Or elfe conuerfe with none : 
Rather then ill accompaned, 
Farre better be alone. 

Watch ouer wordes, for from the mouth 
There hath much cuill fprunge: 
T'is better ftumble with thy feet 
Then ftumble with thy tongue. 

Not outward habite, Vertue 'tis 
That doth aduaunce thy fame: 
The golden brydle betters not 
A lade that weares the fame. 

The greateft loyes that euer were, 
At length with forowe meetes : 
Tafte Hony with thy fingers end 
And furfet not on fweetes, 

A Lyer can doe more then much, 
Worke wonders by his lyes : 
Turne Mountaynes into Mole-hils 
And huge Elaphants to Flyes. 

Children that are vnfortunate, 
Their Parents alwaies prayfe : 
And attribute all thriftines 
Vnto their fore -gone dayes. 

When Sicknes enters Healths ftrong hold 
And Life begins to yeild : 
Mans forte of Flefh to parley comes, 
And Death muft winne the field. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

The Flatterer before thy face 
With fmiling lookes will ftand: 
Prefenting Hony in his mouth, 
A Razor in his hande. 

The truly Noble-minded, loues, 
The bafe and feruile feares: 
Who-euer tels a foole a tale, 
Had need to finde him eares. 

To medle much with idle thinges, 
Would vex a wife mans head : 
Tis labour, and a weary worke 
To make a Dog his bed. 

The worft wheele euer of the Cart, 
Doth yeild the greateft noyce: 
Three women make a Market, for 
They haue fufficient voyce. 

Firft leafe all Fooles defire to learne 
With ftedfaft fixed eyes: 
Is this : A II other Idiots are, 
And they exceeding wife. 

When once the Lyon breathles lyes, 
Whome all the Forrefl fear'd : 
The very Hares, prefumptuoufly 
Will pull him by the beard. 

Ceafe not to doe the good thou oughtft, 
Though inconuenience growe : 
A wife man will not Seed-time loofe 
For feare of euery Crowe. 

F3 On 


Diogines Lanthorne. 

One man can neuer doe fo well 
But fome man will him blame: 
Tis vayne to feeke pleafe cuery man, 
loue cannot doe the fame. 

To him that is in mifery 

Do not affli6lion adde : 

With forowe to load forowes backe, 

Is moft extreamly badde. 

Showe me good fruit on euill trees, 
Or Rofe that growes on Thiftle : 
He vndertake at fight therof, 
To drincke to thee and whifble. 

Cenfure what confcience refts in him, 
That fweares he luftice loues; 
And yet doth pardon hurtfull Crowes, 
To punifh fimple Doues. 

There's many, that to aske, might haue, 
By their ode filence croft/ 
What charge is fpcech vnto thy tongue ? 
By asking, pra'y whats loft ? 

He ferues for nothig, that is luft 
And faithfull in his place : 
Yet for his dutie well perform'd, 
Is not a whit in grace. 

He makes him-felfe an others flaue. 
And feares doth vnder-goe; 
That vnto one being ignorant, 
Doth his owne fecrets fhow. 



Diogines Lanthorne. 

On Neptune wrongfull he complaynes 
That oft hath bene in daunger: 
And yet to his deuouring waues 
Doth not become a ftraunger. 

Age is an honourable thing, 

And yet though yeares be fo, 

For one wife -man with hoary hayres, 

Three dozen fooles I knowe. 





Imprinted by Ed. Allde for William Fere- 

brand and are to be fold at his Shop in 

the popes-head Pallace, right oner a- 

gainft the Tauerne-dore. 


To his verie Lotting Friend Majler 

George Lee. 

Esteemed friend y I pray thee take it kinde, 
That outward a6liou bearcs an inward minde, 
What ohie£ls heere thefe papers do deliiier, 
Bejiow the viewing of tliem for the giiier. 
I make thee a partaker of firange fights, 
Drawne antique works of humours vaine delights. 
A mirrour of the mad coneeitedfliapes, 
Of this our ages giddy-headed apes, 
Thefe fafli on mongers, fclfe bcfottcd meji 
Of kindred to the fowle that zuore my pen, 
Are at an hozvers warning to appear e. 
And miifier i^i fixe fJteetes of Paper heere. 
And this is all at this time I befloiv. 
To euidence a greater loue I owe. 

Yours Samvel Rowlands. 

A 2 


As many antique faces paffe, 
From Barbers cliaire vnto his glaffe, 
There to beholde their kinde of trim, 
And how they are reform'd by him, 
Or at Exchang where Marchants greete, 
Confufion of the tongues do meete. 
As Englijli, French, Italian, DiitcJi, 
Spanish, and Scofsh, with diuers fuch. 
So from the Preffe thefe papers come 
V To fhow the humorous fliapes of fome. 
Heere are fuch faces good and bad, 
As in a Barbers fliop are had, 
And heere are tongues of diuers kindes, 
According to the fpeakers mindes. 
Beholde their fafliions, heare their voice. 
And let difcretion make thy choice. 




Ome man that to contention is incHn'de ; 
*^With any thing he fees, a fault wil finde, 
As, that is not fo good, the fame's amiffe, 

1 haue no great affe6lion vnto this. 
Now I protefl I doe not like the fame, 
This muft be mended, that deferueth blame, 
It were farre better fuch a thing were out, 
This is obfcure, and that's as full of doubt. 
And much adoe, and many words are fpent 
In finding out the path that humours went, 
And for dire6lion to that Idle way 

Onely a bufie tongue bears all the fway. 
The difh that Aefope did commend for beft; 
Is now a dales in wonderfull requeft. 
But if you finde fault on a certaine ground, 
Weele fall to mending when the fault is found, 

A 3 



PRa'y by your leaue, make moufieur humors roome 
That oft hath walk'd about Duke Humphries 
And fat amongft the Knights to fee a play, (tombe 
And gone in's fuite of Sattin eu'ry day, 
And had his hat difplay a bufhie plume, 
And's verie beard deliuer forth perfume. 
But when was this ? aske Frier Bacons head 
That anfwered Time is paji, O time is fled! 
Sattin and filke was pawned long agoe, 
And now in canuafe, no knight can him knowe. 
His former ftate, in dark obliuion fleepes, 
Onely Paules Gallarie, that walke he keepes. 


CRoffc not my humor, with an ill plac'd worde, 
For if thou doeft, behold my fatall fworde : 
Do'ft fee my countenance begin looke red ? 
Let that fore-tell thcr's furic in my lied. 
A little difcontent will quickely heate it. 
Touch not my ftake, thou wert as good to eate it, 
Thefe damned dice how curfed they deuoure : 
I loft fome halfe fcore pound in halfe an houre. 

A bowle 

A bowle of wine, firha : you villaine, fill : 
Who drawes it Rafcall? call me hether IVil/. 
You Rogue, what ha' ft to Supper for my dyet ? 
Tel'ft me of Butchers meate? knaue I defie it. 
He haue a banquet to enuite an Earle, 
A Phoenix boyld in broth diftil'd in Pearle. 
Holde drie this leafe, a candle quickly bring, 
He take one pipe to bed, none other thing. 
Thus with Tahacco he will fup to night: 
Flefli-meate is heauie, and his purfe is light. 


TWo Gentlemen of hot and fierie fprite, 
Tooke boate, and went vp Weftward to goe fight 
Imbarked both, for Wenf-worth they fet faile, 
And there ariuing with a happie gaile. 
The Water-men difcharged for their fare, 
Then to be parted, thus their mindes declare. 
Pray Ores (faid they) ftay heere and come not nie, 
We goe to fight a little, but heere by. 
The Water-men with ftaues did follow then, 
And cryd, oh holde your hands good Gentlemen, 
You know the danger of the law, forbeare : 
So they put weapons vp and fell to fweare. 





Nc of thefe Cuccold-making Queanes 

did graft her hufbands head : 
who arm'd with anger, fteele and home 
would kill him flain'd his bed, 
And challeng'd him vnto the field, 
Vowing to haue his life, 
Where being met, firha (quoth he,) 
I doe fufpe6l my Wife 
Is fcarce fo honeft as flie fliould. 
You make of her fome vfc : 
Indeed faid he I loue her well, 
He frame no falfe excufe. 
O ! d'ye confeffe ? by heauens (quoth he) 
Had'ft thou deni'de thy guilt. 
This blade had gone into thy guts, 
Euen to the verie Hilt, 



/'"^Ccafion late was minilired for one to trie his friend, 
^-^ Ten pounds he did intreat him y'of all lone hewould 
Hiscafewasanaccurfed cafe, no comfort tobe found, (led 
Vnles he friendly drew his purfe, &blefl: him with te poud 
He did proteft he had it not, making a folemne vow, 
He wated means & money both, to do him pleafure now. 
The fir (quoth he) you know I haue a Gelding I loue wel, 
Neceffitie it hath no law, I muft my Gelding fell, 
I haue bin offered twelue for him, with ten ile be cotent, 
Well I will trie a friend (faid he,) it was his chefl: he ment. 
So fc6lch'd the money prefently,tother fees Angels fliine 
Now God amercyhorfe (quoth he) thycredit's more then 





Dice diuing deepe into a Ruffians purfe, 
Leaning it nothing worth but firings and leather : 
He prefently did fall to fweare and curfe, 
That's life and money he would loofe together, 
Tooke of his hat, and fwore, let me but fee 
What Rogue dares fay this fame is blacke to me? 

Another loft, and he did money lackc, 
And thus his furie in a heate reuiues: 
Where is that Rogue denies his hat is blacke? 
He fight with him, had he ten thoufand lines. 
Oh fir (quoth he) in troth you come too late, 
Choller is paft, my anger's out of date. 


AKinde of Loiidon-w^Sk.'^x in a boote, 
(Not George a Horfe-backe, but a Gerge a foote,) 
On eu'ry day you meete him through the yeare, 
For's bootes and fpurs, a horfe-man doth appeare. 
Was met with, by an odde conceited ftrangcr. 
Who friendly told him that he walk'd in danger. 


For Sir (in kindenes no way to offend you) 
There is a warrant foorth to apprehend you. 
Th'offence they fay, you riding through thee ftreete, 
Haue kil'd a Childe, vnder your Horfes feete. 
Sir I proteft (quoth he) they doe me wrong, 
I haue not back'd a horfe, God knows how long, 
What flaues be thefe, they haue me falfe bely'd? 
lie prooue this twelue-month I did neuer ride. 


"^ T'\ THat feather'd fowle is this that doth approach 

V V As if it were an EJlredge in a Coach .'' 
Three yards of feather round about her hat, 
And in her hand a bable like to that : 
As full of Birdes attire, as Owle, or Goofe, 
And like vnto her gowne, her felfe feemes loofe. 
Cri'ye mercie Ladie, lewdnes are you there.'' 
Light feather'd ftuffe befits you beft to weare. 

B 2 A Poore 

A deafe eare^ in a mjl cmife. 

A Poore man came vnto a ludge&fhew'd his wronged 
■^^•Entreating him for lefus fake to be compaffionate, 
Thewrogs were great he did fuftaine.he had no help at al 
The ludge fat ftil as if the man had fpoken to the wall. 
With that cametworude fellows in,tohauea matter tride 
About an Affe,that one had let the other for to ride: (by, 
Which Affe the owner found in field, as he by chance pafl 
And he that hired him a fleepc did in the fhadow lye. 
For which he would be fatisfied,his beaft was but to ride : 
And for the fhadow of his Affe, he would be paid befide. 
Great raging words, and damned othes, 

thefe two affe-wrangles fwore, (fore 

Whe prefently the ludge ftart vp, that feem'd a fleep be- 
And heard y* follies willingly of thefe two fottifh men, 
But bad the poore mancomeagaine,hehad noleafurethe. 

A lolly 


A lolly fellow Effex borne and bred, 
-C^A Farmers Sonne, his Father being dead, 
T'expell his griefe and melancholly pafsions, 
Had vowd himfelfe to trauell and fee falhions. 
His great mindes obiecl was no trifling toy. 
But to put downe the wandring Prince of Troy. 
Londons difcouerie firft he doth decide, 
His man muft be his Pilot and his guide. 
Three miles he had not part, there he mufl fit: 
He ask't if he were not neere London yet? 
His man replies good Sir your felfe befturre, 
For we haue yet to goe fixe times as farre. 
Alas I had rather flay at home and digge, 
I had not thought the worlde was halfe fo bigge. 
Thus this great worthie comes backe (thoewith flrife) 
He neuer was fo farre in all his life. 
None of the feauen worthies : on his behalfe, 
Say, was not he a worthie Effex Calfe.'* 

B 3 A Gentleman. 


The Humors that hatmt a Wife. 

A Gentleman a verie friend of mine, 
Hath a young wife and fhc is monftrous fine, 
Shee's of the new fantaftique humor right, 
In her attire an angell of the h'ght. 
Is fhe an Angell? I: it may be well, 
Not of the light, fhe is a light Angell. 
Forfooth his doore muft fufifcr alteration, 
To entertaine her mightie huge Bom-fafhion, 
A hood's to bafe, a hat which flie doth male. 
With braueft feathers in the Eftridge tayle. 
She fcornes to treade our former proud wiues traces. 
That put their glory in their on faire faces, 
In her conceit it is not faire enough, 
She muft reforme it with her painters ftuffc, 
And file is neuer merry at the heart, 
Till fhe be got into her leatherne Cart. 
Some halfe amile the Coach-man guides the raynes, 
Then home againe, birladie flic takes paines. 
My friend feeing what humours haunt a wife. 
If he were loofe would lead a fmglc life. 



A poore Mans pollicy. 

NExt I will tell you of a poore mans tricke, 
Which he did pra6life with a poUiticke, 
This poore man had a Cow twas all his ftocke, 
Which on the Commons fed : w^here Catell flocke, 
The other had a fteere a wanton Beafb, 
Which he did turne to feede amongft the reft. 
Which in proceffe although I know not how, 
The rich mans Oxe did gore the poore mans Cow. 
The poore man heereat vexed waxed fad, 
For it is all the lining that he had, 
And he muft loofe his lining for a fong, 
Alas he knew not how to right his wrong. 
He knew his enemie had pointes of law, 
To faue his purfe, fill his deuouring mawe, 
Yet thought the poore man how fo it betide. 
He make him giue right fentence on my fide. 
Without delay vnto the Man he goes, 
And vnto him this fayned tale doth gloze, 
(Quoth he) my Cow which with your Oxe did feede. 
Hath kild your Oxe and I make knowne the deede. 
Why (quoth my Politique) thou fhouldft haue helpt it 
Thou (halt pay for him if thow wert my father, (rather, 



The courfe of law in no wife mufl be ftayde, 
Leaft I an euill prefident be made. 

Sir (quoth he) I cry you mercy now, 

1 did miftake, your Oxe hath gorde my Cow: 
Conui6l by reafon he began to brawle, 

But was content to let his aflion fall. 
As why.'' (quoth he) thou lookft vnto her well, 
Could I preuent the mifchiefe that befell .'* 
I haue more weightie caufes now to trie. 
Might orecomes right without a reafon why. 


ONe of the damned crew that lines by drinke, 
And by Tobacco's ftillified ftink, 
Met with a Country man that dwelt at Hull : 
Thought he this pefant's fit to be my Gull. 
His firfl falute like to the French-mans wipe, 
Wordes of encounter, pleafe you take a pipe .'* 
The Countrie man amazed at this rabble, 
Knewe not his minde yet would be conformable. 
Well, in a petty Ale-houfe they enfconce 
His Gull muft learne to drinke Tobacco once. 


Indeede his purpofe was to make a iefl, 

How with Tobacco he the peafant drefl. 

Hee takes a whifife, with arte into his head, 

The other ftandeth ftill aftonifhed. 

Till all his fences he doth backe reuoake, 

Sees it afcend much like Saint Katherins fmoake. 

But this indeede made him the more admire, 

He faw the fmoke : thought he his head's a fier, 

And to increafe his feare he thought poore foule, 

His fcarlet nofe had been a firie cole. 

Which circled round with fmoak, feemed to him 

Like to fome rotten brand that burnetii dim. 

But to fhew wifdome in a defperat cafe, 

He threw a Can of beere into his face, 

And like a man fome furie did infpire, 

Ran out of doores for helpe to quench the fire. 

The Ruffin throwes away his Trinidado, 

Out comes huge oathes and then his fhort poynado, 

But then the Beere fo troubled his eyes, 

The countrieman was gone ere he could rife, 

A fier to drie him, he doth now require, 

Rather than water for to quench his fire. 

C Come 



/'"^Ome my braue gallant come, vncafe, vncafe, 
^-^Nere fliall obliuion your great a6les deface. 
He has been there where neuer man came yet, 
An vnknowne countrie, I, ile warrant it, 
Whence he could Ballace a good fhip in holde, 
With Rubies, Saphiers, Diamonds and golde. 
Great Orient Pearles efteem'd no more then moates, 
Sould by the pecke as chandlers m.efure oates, 
I meruaile then we haue no trade from thence : 
O tis too farre it will not beare expence. 
T'werc far indeede, a good way from our mayne. 
If charges eate vp fuch excefsiue gaine. 
Well he can fhew you fome of Lybian grauell, 

that there were another world to trauell, 

1 heard him fweare that hee (twas in his mirth) 

Had been in all the corners of the earth. 



Let all his wonders be together ftitcht. 
He threw the barre that great Alcidcs pitcht: 
But he that faw the Oceans fartheft ftrands, 
You pofe him if you aske where Douer ftands. 
He has been vnder ground and hell did fee, 
Aeneas nere durft goe fo farre as hee. 
For he has gone through Plutces Regiment, 
Saw how the Fiendes doe Lyers there torment. 
And how they did in helles damnation frye, 
But who would thinke the Traueller would lye ? 
To dine with Pluto he was made to tarrie. 
As kindly vs'd as at his Ordinarie. 
Hogfheades of wine drawne out into a Tub, 
Where he did drinke hand-fmooth with Belzebub, 
And Profcrphie gaue him a goulden bow, 
Tis in his cheft he cannot fliew it now. 

C 2 One toulde 


Of one that coitfned the Cut-pttrfe. 

ONe toulde a Drouer that belccu'd it not, 
What booties at the playes the Cut-purfe got, 
But if t'were fo my Droucrs wit was quicke, 
He vow'd to feme the Cut-purfe a new tricke. 
Next day vnto the play, pollicy hy'd, 
A bag of fortic fliiUings by his fide, 
Which houlding faft he taketh vp his fband, 
If ftringes be cut his purfe is in his hand. 
A fine conceited Cut-purfe fpying this, 
Lookt for no more, the for fhillings his, 
Whilft my fine PoHtiquc gazed about. 
The Cut-purfe feately tooke the bottom out. 
And cuts the ftrings, good foole goe make a ieft, 
This Difmall day thy purfe was fairely bleft. 
Houlde faft good Noddy tis good to dreade the worfe> 
Your monie's gone, I pray you keepe your purfe. 
The play is done and foorth the foole doth goe. 
Being glad that he coufned the Cut-purfe foe. 
He thought to iybe how he the Cut-purfe dreft, 
And memorize it for a famous ieft. 
But putting in his hand it ran quite throw 
Dafh't the conceite, heele neuer fpeake on't now, 
You that to playes haue fuch delight to goe. 
The Cut-purfe cares not, ftill deceiue him fo. 



A drtmken fray . 

dcke met with Tom in faith it was their lot, 
Two honeft Drunkars muft goe drinke a pot, 
Twas but a pot, or fay a little more, 
Or fay a pot that's filled eight times ore. 
But being drunke, and met v\'ell with the leefe. 
They drinke to healthes deuoutly on their knees, 
Dicke drinks to Hall, to pledge him Tom reiefts, 
And fcornes to doe it for fome odde refpe6ls 
Wilt thou not pledge him thar't a gill, a Scab, 
Wert with my man-hood thou deferueft a ftab, 
But tis no matter drinke another bout, 
Weele intot'h field and there v/eele trie it out. 
Lets goe (faies Tom) no longer by this hand, 
Nay ftay (quoth Dicke( lets fee if we can fland. 
Then forth they goe after the drunken pace, 
Which God he knowes was with a reeling grace, 
Tom made his bargaine, thus with bonnie Dicke 
If it fliould chance my foote or fo fhould flip, 
How wouldfl thou vfe me or after \vhat Size, 
Wouldft bare me fhorter or wouldfl let me rife. 
Nay God forbid our quarrells not fo great, 
To kill thee on aduantage in my heat. 

C 3 Tufh 


Tufh wc'lc not fight for any hate or foe, 
But for meere loue that each to other owe. 
And for thy learning loe He fhew a tricke, 
No fooner fpoke the worde but downe comes Dicke, 
Well now (quoth Tom) thy life hangs on my fworde, 
If I were downe how wouldft thou keepe thy worde? 
Why with thefe hilts I'de braine thee at a blow, 
Faith in my humor cut thy throate, or foe. 
But Tom he fcorne to kill his conquered foe, 
Lets Dicke arife, and too't againe they goc. 
Dicke throwes downe Tom, or rather Tom did fall, 
My hilts (quoth Dicke) fliall braine thee like a maull, 
Is't fo (quoth Tom) good faith what remedie. 
The Tower of Babell's fallen and fo am I. 
But Dicke proceedes tp giue the fatall wound, 
It mill his throate, but run into the ground. 
But he fuppofmg that the man was flaine. 
Straight fled his contrie, fliip himfelfc for Spaine, 
Whilft valiant Thomas dyed dronken deepe. 
Forgot his'danger and fell faft a fleepe. 



T T\ THat's he that ftarcs as if he were afright^' 

V V The fellowe fure hath feene fome dreadful! 
Maffe rightly guefl, why fure I did diuine, (fpright 
Hee's haunted with a Spirit feminine. 
In plaine termes thus, the Spirit that I meane, 
His martiall wife that notable curft queane, 
No other weapons but her nailes or fift, 
Poore patient Idiot he dares not refift, 
His neighbor once would borrow but his knife, 
Good neighbor ftay (quoth he) ile aske my wife : 
Once came he home infpired in the head, 
He found his neighbor and his wife a bed, 
Yet durft not fturre, but hide him in a hole, 
He feared to difpleafe his wife poore foule. 
But why fhould he fo dreade and feare her hate, 
Since fhe had giuen him armor for his pate? 
Next day forfooth he doth his neighbor meete, 
Whome with fterne rage thus furioufly doth greete, 
Villaine ile flit thy nofe, out comes his knife, 
Sirra (quoth he) goe to lie tell your wife. 
Apaled at which terror, meekely faide 
Retire good knife my furie is allaide. 




Time feruing humour thou wrie-faced Ape, 
That canfl: transformc thy felfe to any fhape : 
Come good Proteus come away a pace, 
We long to fee thy mumping Antique face. 
This is the fellow that Hues by his wit, 
A cogging knaue and fawning Parrafit, 
He has behauiour for the greateft porte, 
And hee has humors for the rafcall forte, 
He has beene great with Lordes and high efliates, 
They could not Hue without his rare conceites, 
He was affociat for the braueft fpirits, 
His galland carriage fuch fauour merrits. 
Yet to a Ruffiin humor for the flewes, 
A right graund Captaine of the damned crewes, 
With whome his humor alwayes is vnflable 
Mad, melancholly, drunke and variable. 



Hat without band like cutting Dicke he goe's, 
Renowned for his new inuented oathes. 
Sometimes like a Ciuilian, tis flrange 
At twelue a clocke he muft vnto the Change, 
Where being thought a Marchant to the eye, 
He tels ftrange newes his humor is to lie. 
Some Damafke coate the effect thereof muft heare, 
Inuites him home and there he gets good cheare. 
But how is't now fuch braue renowned wits, 
Weare ragged robes with fuch huge gaftly flits. 
Faith thus a ragged humour he hath got 
Whole garments for the Summer are too hot. 
Thus you may cenfure gently if you pleafe. 
He weares fuch garments onely for his eafe. 
Or thus his credit will no longer waue. 
For all men know him for a prating knaue. 


AScholer newly entred marriage life 
Following his ftuddie did offend his wife, 
Becaufe when fhe his company expe6led, 
By bookifh buflnes fhe was ftill neglefled : 
Comming vnto his ftuddy, Lord (quoth fhe) 
Can papers caufe you loue them more than mee : 

D I would 



I would I were tranfform'd into a Booke 

That your affe6lion might vpon me looke, 

But in my wifli, withall be it decreed, 

I would be fuch a Booke you loue to reede, 

Hufband (quoth fhe) which books form fhould I take, 

Marry (faid hee) t'were beft an Almanacke, 

The reafon wherefore I doe wifh thee fo, 

Is, euery yeare wee haue a new you knowe. 


SIra, come hether boy, take view of mee. 
My Lady I am purpof'd to goe fee : 
What doth my feather flourifli with a grace, 
And this fame dooble fette become my face, 
How defcent doth this doublets forme appeare 
(I would I had my fute in houns-ditch heere) 
Do not my fpurs pronounce a filuer founde? 
Do's not my hofe circumference profounde? 
Sir thefe are well, but there is one thing ill, 
Your Tailour with a fheete of paper bill, 
Vowes heel'e be paid, and Serieants he had feed. 
Which wayte your comming forth to do thy deede : 
Boy god-amercy let my Lady flay. 
He fee no counter for her fake to day. 


Much a doe abottt cJm/ing a zvife. 

A Widdower would haue a wife were old, 
-^^^Paft charge of children to preuent expence 
Her chefts and bagges cram'd till they crake with gold. 
And fhe vnto her graue poft quickly hence. 
But if all this were fitting to his minde, 
Where is his leafe of life to ftay behinde? 

A Batcheler would haue wife were wife, 

Faire, Rich and Younge, a maiden for his bed, 

Not proude, nor churlifh but of fautles fize, 

A country houfewife, in the Citty bred. 

But hees a foole and longe in vaine hath flaide. 

He fhoulde befpeake her, there's none ready made 

D 2 



The taming of a wilde Youth. 

/'~\F late a deare and louing friend of mine, 

^^-^That all his time a Gallant youth had bene, 

From mirth to melancholy did decline. 

Looking exeeding pale, leane, poore, and thin, 

I ask'd the caufe he brought me through the ftreete, 

Vnto his houfe, and there hee let me fee, 

A woman proper, faire, wife and difcreete 

And faid behould, heer's that hath tamed mee. 

Hath this (quoth I,) can fuch a wife do fo? 

Lord how is he tam'd then, that hath a fhrow: 

A ftraunge 


A Jirazmge Jighted Traiceller. 

AN honefl Country foole being gentle bred, 
Was by an odde conceited humor led, 
To trauell and fome Englifh fafhions fee, 
With fuch ftrange fights as heere at London be. 
Stuffing his purfe with a good golden fome, 
This wandring knight did to the Cittie come. 
And there a feruingman he entertaines, 
An honefter in Newgate not remaines. 
He fhew'd his Maifter fights to him moft ftrange. 
Great tall Pauls Steeple and the royall-Exchange : 
The Boffe at Billings-gaic and Lo7idon-Jlo7ie 
And at White-Hall the monftrous great Whales bone, 
Brought him to the banck-fide where Beares do dwell 
And vnto SJior-ditch where the whores keepe hell, 
Shew'd him the Lyons, Gyants in Guild-Hall, 
King Liid at Lnd-gatc, the Babouncs and all, 
At length his man, on all he had did pray, 
Shew'd him a theeuifh trick and ran away. 
The Traueller turnd home exceeding ciuill, 
And fwore in London he had feene the Deuill. 




Three kinde of Couckoldes^ 

One, And None. 
T^Irfl there's a Cuckolde called One and None, 
-^ Which foole, from fortune hath receiu'd fuch 
He hath a wife for beutie ftands alone, (fauour 

Grac'd with good carriage, and moft fweete behauiour 
Nature fo bounteous hath her gifts extended. 
From head to footc ther's nothing to be mended. 

Befides, fhe is as perfect chaft, as faire, 

But being married to a iealous affe, 

He vowes flie homes him, for he feeles a paire 

Haue bin a growing euer fmce laft graffe, 

No contraiy perfwafions hee'l indure, 

But's wife is faire and hee's a Cuckolde fure. 



None, and One. 
'THHe fecond hath a wife that loues the game, 

-^ And playes the fecret cunnig whore at plaifure. 
But in her husbands fight Ihees wondrous tame, 
Which makes him vow, he hath Vliffes treafure. 
fheele wifh al whores were hang'd, with weeping teares 
Yet fhe her felfe a whores cloathes dayly weares. 

Her husbads friends report how's wife doth gull him 

With falfe deceitfull and diffembling fhowe 

And that by both his homes a man may pull him, 

To fuch a goodly length they daylie growe, 

He fayes they wrong her, and he fweares they lye, 

His wife is chafte, and in that minde hee'le dye. 



The Thirds 

One, and One. 

'nr^He third is he that knowes women are weake, 

-^ And therefore they are dayly apt to fall, 
Words of vnkindneffe their kind hearts may breake. 
They are but flefli and therefore fmners all, 
His wife is not the firfl hath trod a wry, 
Amongft his neighbours he as bad can fpye. 

What can he heipe it if his wife do ill, 

But take it as his croffe and be content, 

For quietneffe he lets her haue her will. 

When fhee is old perhaps fhe will repent, 

Let euery one amend their one bad life, 

Th'are knaues and queans that medle with his wife. 






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